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#like am i stupid or are they just being too much in explaning it maybe i am stupid
multific · 4 months
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Love Potion
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Mattheo always looked at you in a certain way.
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His eyes always followed your every move.
You noticed it very early on just how much attention he was paying to you.
His eyes followed you everywhere.
No matter the place, time or occasion.
Let it be class or breakfast or lunch or dinner.
He always had an eye on you.
And you actually didn’t mind.
Mattheo is a very handsome guy. Even if everyone and even your instincts warned you about him, there was still something.
Something which kept you interested.
You felt a pull towards him.
A pull you never acted on.
So, it was mostly longing looks exchanged between you two, nothing more. 
One evening, you were having dinner with your friends.
Hermione talked about Ron and how stupid he was. Then you grabbed a bonbon and popped it into your mouth.
“Y/N NO!” you heard someone say but it was too late.
Amortentia.
Or as they called it, love potion. 
The entire room smelled like him. Amortentia tends to smell like the person you are in love with, you didn’t even realise. 
You were blind.
The room smelled like smoke, honey and wood.
You wanted to see him, kiss him.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for you to eat it!” said one of the Hufflepuffs. “I was meant to prank my roommate!” 
While everyone was talking, you were quick to run off into the backyard of the school.
You had a pretty good idea of where to find Mattheo.
And surely enough, you found him by the trees smoking.
“RIDDLE!” you yelled, making him flinch and almost drop his cigarette.
“Y/N?”
“Kiss me! RIGHT NOW!”
“Are you drunk?”
“Just in love, come on.” you ran over to him, almost making him trip as you came in contact with him.
He grabbed you to save you from falling and this is when he noticed your eyes.
“Were you given something?”
“All I feel is looooove.” you said and smiled.
Mattheo noticed Hermione from the corner of his eyes.
“What happened to her?”
“A Hufflepuff gave her Amortentia.” she explained as she grabbed your hand and began to pull you back.
“Love potion? Why?”
“Forget this happened Riddle!” Hermione yelled back at Mattheo as you waved to him.
“Byeeee Matty!” he lifted his hand and gave you a small wave back. He was utterly confused.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!” you yelled into your pillow once the potion wore off. “Why didn’t you stop me?!”
“I tried!” said Hermione.
“I want to die. I’m so embarrassed. At LEAST he was alone! Imagine if I did that in front of the school!”
“Well… on our way back to our rooms… you kinda… just a tiny little bit yelled in front of everyone passing by that Mattheo is yours and you will fight for your true love… kinda.”
“Oh. My. Fucking. God. No.” you shook your head but she nodded. “NO. PLEASE NO.”
“And… maybe… kinda… The Slytherins were also there? Maybe?”
“I am jumping out the window,” you said as you stood up and walked towards the window, Hermione grabbed your hand and pulled you back. “I want to die, please. This is so embarrassing!”
“The thing is that almost everyone like cheered for you. Malfoy even wanted to give you a high-five for being so brave. I thought he was being sarcastic, but he was for real. Then Theodore came up and said ‘Go get him, Tiger’ They were all cheering you on.”
“So, I’m the laughingstock of the entire school. Lovely.”
You fell back into your bed, face into the pillow. How will you face everyone tomorrow?
 “Mattheo Riddle! The lucky guy!” said Theodore as he hit Mattheo in the shoulder. “Having one of the prettiest girl scream and declare her love for you. Lucky you!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at his friend.
Although he couldn’t sleep one bit for the entire night, his mind was way too busy.
“It was only a prank.” Mattheo said. It was the only logical explanation.
“Nope. You know Angie? The Hufflepuff girl? Nevermind… Apparently, she made some chocolate for her friend as a prank, but Y/N ended up eating one and it had Amortentia in it.” Mattheo looked at Theodore, trying to see if his friend was lying but he wasn’t.
“And how do you know that?”
“Angie told her friends and I heard it. They didn’t realize I was standing there. But lucky you, having a girlfriend! Don’t fuck it up tho! Or I might steal her.”
“Piss off.” Theodore laughed as they both entered the class.
Mattheo’s eyes immediately locked with yours. You looked scared as you looked away. He could only imagine how you were feeling.
But he was just as confused and embarrassed.
After classes, you wanted nothing more than to run back to your room and hide from everyone.
No one said a thing. But the looks they gave you, said it all.
You just wanted to get out.
You made it to the hallways when someone behind you called your name.
It was Mattheo, your eyes widened as you quickly darted into the girl’s bathroom.
“Y/N, I just want to talk.”
“Look I’m sorry what happened okay?! Please just forget it.”
Then he opened the door and came into the bathroom as you back away and walked into the sinks. 
“This is the girl’s bathroom what are you doing?”
“I need to know if, what you said is true. Did you mean any of it or was it the potion?”
“I-I.” you wanted to lie, you wish you were a better liar. All you could do was listen to your heart hammer in your chest. 
“So it’s true. What you said is all true… you do lo-”
“OKAY now, please, I’m embarrassed enough, I do not need your rejection, Riddle. Please can you just leave me alone?” you wanted to go into a stall and lock yourself for eternity.
“I thought you hated me.” he suddenly said and you looked at him, shocked. “I was watching you and… you always avoided my looks. Okay, not always but many times.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just agree to grab some butterbeer with me. That could be a start.”
“What?” you were so confused.
“I’m asking you on a date.”
“You are asking me on a date?”
“Why is that so hard to believe?” he asked as you turned your body back towards him.
“I thought you didn’t do… dates.” you sounded very nice, you worded it even more nicely.
“I don’t. But with you, I will.”
“So, what? You… like me too? After what I said and did yesterday?”
“It was very cute.”
“Cute? Which part exactly? When I yelled at you to kiss me or when I swore to kill whoever dares to go close to you?”
“Exactly.” he smirked. “I will wait for you, get ready for our date. An hour? Is that enough?”
“Okay. An hour.” he nodded and turned to leave.
You stood there, stunned when a voice behind you made you jump.
“How romantic!”
“Myrtle!”
“You have a date! Go get ready!” she yelled and you listened.
You got ready relatively quickly.
You debated not going, then you decided to give it a try and go.
Then, as you waited by the gates you were prepared for Mattheo not showing up.
Maybe this was his way of repaying you for embarrassing him?
But, he did show up. He did take you out to eat and drink and you did have a good time.
He did walk you back to your dorm and placed a small kiss on your cheek as a goodbye.
He did all that.
And if you only knew it would take a small amount of love potion for you to finally be with him, you would have eaten that piece of chocolate a long time ago. 
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Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak  @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @noname2246
~Masterlist~
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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koqabear · 8 months
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(Un)Professional
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♫: te pongo mal, Kali Uchis
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“When Soobin struck up the proposition to be friends with benefits, he did it under the guise of remaining single and focusing on his music, adamant on keeping things “professional”— god forbid anyone else tries to get with you though, because maybe he didn’t really mean it when he told you no strings attached.”
Soobin x fem!reader
Genre: fwb to ???, pwp, kinda angst, smut, rockstar!au
Word count: 4.5K
warnings: soobin is actually kinda mean and toxic but they have their little redemption arc idk TT… barely edited sorry
smut warnings: mean/hard dom! soobin, sub!mc, mc is kinda bratty, so also brat tamer soobin hehe, rough sex, unprotected sex, pet names, (pretty, baby, etc.) possessiveness, jealousy, degrading, thigh riding, dry humping, breast play, edging, marking, biting, oral (f. rec.), fingering, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dumbification, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)
Notes: this is a mini series that was made simply because i am an indecisive loser. don’t ask why i was listening to reggaeton for a rockstar au, it just happened 😭 also i wrote all these parts after midnight bc that’s the only time i was able to write i guess— in other words… don’t expect too much from this. 
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Soobin doesn’t do relationships. 
There’s no room for something as fragile as that in his life, at least not when he’s traveling to a new state every day for his tours— the last thing Soobin would ever do is fuck up what he already has just for something as fickle as love. 
However, he is a man with needs— needs that are gladly fulfilled by you, his pretty best friend that always travels with them. 
He’s known you long enough to have struck up this arrangement confidently; knowing there would be no strings attached, not able to form any feelings for someone he’s been content being just friends with for— well, forever. 
So this— his pounding heart, his brows that furrow together with frustration, his hands that grip his microphone a little tighter— is definitely new. 
There is no logical reason as to why he should be feeling like this; there’s no logical explanation as to why it’s been such an eyesore to watch Yeonjun interact with you the whole night, watching the way the man not so subtly sends winks and coy smiles in your direction, Soobin’s lips being bitten at as he watches the way you merely smile cutely in response. 
You don’t even act this way with him; every time you’ve come to their shows, you’ve always made it a point to act normal whenever Soobin comes around— just enough excitement to make you seem like a fan, but not enough to make it seem like you know him— you’ve learned this the hard way.
“Tone it down a bit next time, yeah?” Soobin told you once, as you laid in his hotel bed and surfed through the tv channels with droopy eyes, “If we’re gonna keep doing this, we should be professional about it.”
His words garnered a massive roll of your eyes— what the fuck did he even mean by that? It’s a concert, of course you had to seem excited— but it seems as though you took his comment to heart, watching the way your excitement dies down the moment Soobin approaches your side. 
No one’s watching you— no one cares about what faces you make or what you say when Soobin stands before you, but the thought of him telling you to keep it professional pisses you off so much that you decide to show him just how good of an actress you are; the difference of reactions is almost incredible, and you take in the way Soobin’s eyes narrow at the sight of you. 
There’s no reason he should get mad— after all, there’s nothing between you. 
Agreeing to this was a stupid idea. What kind of a self-destructive freak agrees to be friends with benefits with someone they had feelings for? A self-destructive freak like you apparently, because as you watch Soobin leave with one last glance at you, you can’t help but wish that he was just a bit mad. 
The two of you distract yourselves in your own ways; Soobin tries not to visit your section for the rest of the night, and you try to get the attention of the rest of the members in response— and the boys, surprised to see your excited attitude when they come around, are more than happy to oblige— and if the fans noticed that Soobin seemed to be in a bad mood for part of the show, well, that’s on him.
You feel a bit more tired than usual by the time the concert ends— you’re not sure why, but you find yourself trudging backstage because of that; maybe you should just go to the hotel instead of congratulating the boys for their show like you usually do. 
“Oh, hey ___!” Yeonjun spots you before you can turn on your heels and exit; you’re immediately putting on a bright smile as the said man throws an arm around you, still in his encore outfit as he drags you along the halls and undoubtedly to where the rest of the members are, “What’d you think of the concert? It was good huh?”
“As always,” you smile, nudging Yeonjun softly as he clearly waits for you to continue, “You were great out there, your energy was insane.”
“Why thank you,” he purrs, leaning in and watching as you scoff at him playfully, “Watching you enjoy yourself practically gave me all the energy I needed.”
You don’t find yourself surprised by his comment; Yeonjun is always like this, his flirty and suggestive behavior nothing out of the ordinary as you simply scold him to get out of your face— you’re so caught up in bickering with the man that you don’t notice the heated stare of another, brows twitching at the way you laugh and play along with Yeonjun.
After a moment though, you feel it— your head is turning before you can really process it, and you’re meeting eyes with Soobin, who looks… well, pissed off.
Before you can get a good look at his face, he’s standing abruptly; taking long strides to where you are, your heart beginning to pound at the sight of him slowing to a stop next to you. 
“Meet me outside.” His voice is gruff and on edge as he whispers the words lowly to you, walking off without another word as you simply turn to watch— because of course he wouldn’t try to get Yeonjun off you or outwardly ask for your attention, choosing instead to relay you a quiet message before he’s off, regardless of the way everyone sends him a confused look as they watch him leave. 
“He looks mad,” Yeonjun hums, watching as you shrug his arm off gently, “Gonna try to talk to him?”
You sigh, hoping he doesn’t see the way your hands grab at the hem of your shirt anxiously. 
“Yeah,” you say, then you’re off, barely able to turn the corner once you’ve exited before you’re harshly pulled by none other than Soobin.
“Ow— what the fuck—!” Soobin’s hold on your wrist is bruising as he pushes you into the room next door, a changing room that’s not meant to hold multiple people as he simply locks the door behind him and pushes you against the wall; he doesn’t bother to turn on the lights as he approaches you— the light that comes through the frosted window on the door becomes the only thing that allows you to see Soobin’s frustrated expression. 
“Had fun flirting with the others?” He asks, his lips so close that you’re able to feel the puff of his breath as he huffs in frustration— the room is so small as you press yourself against the wall, feeling as though Soobin is filling your senses and making you dizzy, “Was that your little way to try and get my attention? Because it fucking worked, you poor little thing.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” you hiss, pressing a hand against Soobin’s chest as you feel him try to swoop in to kiss you, his hands already sliding under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes along your skin, “I’m friends with the others too, you know.”
“Have you always been this friendly with them? Hmm?” he asks, slotting a knee between your legs as you’re left to look up at him speechlessly, “What, gonna try to fuck them next?” 
“Dude, what’s your fucking problem!” you hiss, punctuating your words with a punch to his chest as you glare at him, not lost upon the fact that his thigh is pressed firmly against your cunt, your skirt fanning along his leg and hiding the way he’s flexing and pushing it against you.
“And if I wanted to, then what?” you ask, pretending as though you haven’t given in to the way Soobin’s hands are guiding your hips, making you grind against him as he feels the way you become wet by his actions, “What’ll you do, get jealous? Try to stop me? That wouldn’t be very professional of you— I might as well ask Yeonjun if he’s free after this.”
“Don’t get fucking smart with me,” He says, a hand coming up to grab your cheeks and tilt your head toward him, “I’m not letting any other bitch get with you, touching what’s mine.”
It’s just his arrogance and possessiveness talking again— at least that’s what you tell yourself, failing to hold back your weak whimper as you roll your hips against him, feeling him press against your hip and rut his hard cock against you slowly. 
“I’m not fucking yours,” you grit out, your words muffled as you try to speak through the hold that Soobin still has on you, “The only reason why we’re still friends is so you can get a good fuck, don’t lie—”
Soobin is kissing you before you can finish your sentence— if he wasn’t angry before, he definitely was now, his teeth clashing against yours as he kisses you roughly and without control, a mess of spit as he bites down on your lip, drinking in your pained moan before he’s slipping his tongue in to get a taste.
He’s noticed the way your hips have begun to move erratically; your hands are gripping tightly at his shirt, probably stretching it out as you continue to moan into his mouth, a hand guiding your movements as he flexes and presses his thigh firmer against you, his free hand letting go of your face to slip under your shirt and get access to your breasts as he begins to roll and pinch your nipples between his fingers. 
“Do you like it when I treat you like this?” he asks breathlessly, finally pulling away to watch the way a string of saliva continues to connect you— the sight is filthy and has your brows furrowing as you bite your swollen lips in hopes to muffle your sounds, “Like you’re nothing more than a fucktoy for me to use after my shows? A good little thing to take my stress out on?”
The pleasure is beginning to build up— there’s a tight knot in your stomach, making your brain go foggy as you feel the way your clit rubs against Soobin’s thigh every time you angle your hips a certain way, feeling as you soak your panties and his sweats the longer you rut against him.
Soobin simply watches you with a small smile; his eyes are lidded as he leans back, eyes glued to the way you roll your hips against him, weak whines becoming louder and more frantic as you begin to pull at his shirt with wide, teary eyes. 
But before you can finally cum, he pulls away. You’re whining softly at the loss, hitting his chest petulantly as you curse at him under your breath— before you can land another hit, he grabs your wrists, freezing you entirely as he sends you a sly look, leaning in so he can whisper in your ear.
“You’ll let me fuck you, right? You can always go to someone else if you need to cum,” he says, waiting for your response as he begins to kiss and suck at the spot just under your ear, knowing how sensitive you are as he feels the way you attempt to curl into yourself.
“Fuck you,” you whine out, attempting to shake his hold off you, only to fail— he simply laughs softly, sinking his teeth into the marked flesh as he listens to the yelp you let out. 
“I’m trying,” he huffs out, finally pulling away as he sends you a childish grin, “Now be good and turn around for me, okay sweet thing?”
The nickname catches you so off guard that you don’t protest the way Soobin turns you around without another word, your cheek pressed against the wall and your hands held behind your back as you continue to curse at him quietly— and judging by the way Soobin simply laughs softly, he’s definitely enjoying himself, shameless as ever as you listen to the sounds of shifting behind you.
You hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches as you feel him push your panties aside, his tip brushing against your entrance— swiping at your leaking slit to gather your wetness, clearly teasing you as he takes in the way you try to push back against him, letting out a soft please as you feel his tip sink into you slightly, feeling the way you stretch around him before he’s pulling back out.
“Please? Why are you begging for me, baby?” he asks, slowly beginning to push in as he watches you rest your forehead against the wall, letting out a shaky sigh at the stretch, “I’m not here for you— you can go to another one of your toys if you’re looking for someone to worship you.”
You can’t bring yourself to say anything as you feel him bottom out inside you— no matter how many times you find yourself in this situation, you can never get used to it, the size of him enough to have your eyes rolling back as you feel his tip prod at your cervix, hips flush against your ass as he begins to grind softly into you. 
It’s not enough— not for you, and certainly not for him, though he refuses to give you the pleasure of fucking you stupid so soon as he watches instead the way you begin to squirm, wanting more as you hang your head and try to fuck yourself against him— all attempts are quickly stopped as Soobin uses a hand to still your movement, firm on your waist and forcing you back against the wall as the other continues to bind your hands, pressing your fists against the small of your back and watching with a sly smile as you begin to arch in response. 
“Why are you so quiet?” he asks softly, leaning in to trail kisses along your neck, continuing his slow and agonizing pace, “Usually you’re so loud I have to keep a hand on your mouth.”
You refuse to give into him— refuse to let him hear what he wants, ignoring the ache between your legs and the fire in your stomach that just begs to be put out— but the way you’re leaking around Soobin’s length and clenching around him is giving you away, and it’s enough to have you turning away from him in hopes that he won’t be able to read your expression. 
This proves to be harder than you expected; Soobin’s hand has let go of your waist in favor to play with your clit, nimble fingers circling and pinching the bud as he begins to thrust shallowly, listening to the way you try to swallow your sounds and keep your eyes shut at the feeling— it isn’t long before he’s building you up again, taking in the way your legs shake and you begin to push back against him subconsciously, giving away just how needy you are as your fists tighten. 
You’re close, so fucking close, maybe if you stay quiet Soobin won’t notice— but, for a man who insists you two aren’t anything, he’s eerily aware of the way your body gets when you’re about to cum— meaning, all his movement immediately stops the moment you’re about to tumble over the edge, bottoming out inside you and laughing mockingly as he listens to the broken sound you let out. 
“Fuck, I’m so tired from today’s show,” Soobin groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder, beginning his slow, shallow thrusts again after a moment, “You don’t mind if I take it slow tonight, do you?”
You say nothing— you have yet to say anything that would irritate or please Soobin, and that in itself is enough to egg him on— because even if you refuse to talk, the way your body trembles from his touch and you bite your lips to suppress sounds is enough to tell him all he needs to know. 
The way you clench around Soobin when he begins to play with your clit almost has him cumming— he has to concentrate on not doing so as he takes in the weak whine you let out, your previous orgasms being built up once more as you let out a shaky sigh, listening to the wet sounds that come from the way Soobin fucks you. 
You’re trying so hard to remain neutral as he winds you up— but god, he knows you like the back of his hand, his hips rutting and rolling into you as he does everything to make you go insane, already feeling your high creep up on your from how up-tight your body is. 
“Feels good?” He asks, using your hands as leverage as he pulls you back into him for a particularly harsh thrust— the suddenness of it has you moaning loudly, your lips immediately pressing together as you feel your face grow hot— Soobin’s cocky laugh is both annoying and hot and you hate yourself for feeling that way. 
“Don’t worry, you don’t have to say anything,” he grins, picking up his pace as he watches the way you begin to break, weak moans and whines leaving you from how harshly he thrusts his cock into you, “I’ll do all the work, just stand there and look pretty, okay?”
You can feel your high approaching— it’s intense and fast, and you’re barely able to process the way your mouth falls open as you begin to chase the feeling, ready to fall over the edge and cream all over Soobin’s cock when—-
Like an absolute jerk, he pulls out. 
“You know what?” he says, talking more to himself than anything as he turns you back around and tucks himself back in, your back colliding with the wall behind you as your breath hitches, watching as he falls to his knees and sends you an innocent look, “I haven’t tasted you in so long, baby— fuck, I can’t help myself, I’ll be quick.”
Soobin is never like this— you’ve only ever experienced quickies backstage, so to say that you’re surprised to see the man dragging things out here is an understatement, letting out a shaky sigh as he throws your leg over his shoulder and scoots closer to you, burying himself under your skirt without hesitation. 
You’re practically dripping on the floor— it’s even worse when his fingers begin to prod at your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench wildly at the feeling and your hips thrust toward the sensation; Soobin’s tongue licks at your clit teasingly, taking his time to trace circles around it as he finally sinks his fingers inside you, curling them and pressing against all your sensitive spots as he takes in the way you squirm above him. 
Soobin’s face is practically suffocated by your cunt— you’re not sure how long he does this for, but he proceeds to bring you close to orgasm only to pull away a few more times, listening to the way you begin to cry and plead a bit more with each one. 
At some point— your fifth ruined orgasm, you think you’ve lost count— you find yourself pulling at his hair and begging, the words stuttered out through hiccups as you feel hot tears stream down your cheeks, pleading Soobin to let you cum as you grind your pussy along his face, feeling his tongue dip to your entrance before he’s back to teasing your clit, laughing softly at the sound before he finally emerges from under your skirt— his face is shiny and flushed as he looks up at you, sending you a grin that only has you pouting even more. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks, feigning concern as he begins to run his hands along your thighs, waiting patiently for you to respond as he begins trailing kisses up your legs, hearing your soft sniffles as he reaches your inner thighs, “Aren’t you enjoying yourself?”
“Soobin,” you whine, shutting your eyes as you feel his swollen lips leave opened-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, already soaked with your arousal as he licks it up, only to begin biting and sucking at the area leisurely, “Soobin please—please let me cum, wanna cum so bad, please.”
The sound of your begging is welcomed to his ears— he looks up at you through his lashes, sparkling eyes a stark contrast to the filthy way he continues to mark your thighs, ignoring your soft whines that others will see them, please binnie…
“Others will see them?” he repeats, clenching his jaw at the way you nod frantically, a clear concern in your eyes— slowly, he stands, hooking your leg over his waist as he presses himself against you, hissing softly at the way you immediately soak through his sweats, “So what? Let them see. That way they know what happens when we’re alone.”
“But… we shouldn’t— you said we need to keep this hidden…” His words are nothing but confusing— you’re sure it reads on your face, because Soobin is aligning his cock with your entrance once more, chuckling softly at your expression before he shakes his head in exasperation.
“Did I? Well, I don’t wanna hide it anymore,” he says, eyes lidded and filled with need as he sinks himself slowly into you; your eyes are threatening to flutter shut at the sensation, only to be stopped at the feeling of Soobin cupping your chin, telling you softly look at me. before he finally bottoms out.
“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” he says, and you’re more than ready to respond with another mean comment before he continues, “And that I’m all yours. Don’t want anyone else to touch you.”
“W…what—?” your words are being cut short by the feeling of him fucking into you again, a hand coming up to grab his shoulder and your leg pulling him in closer in fear of having your orgasm ruined again— Soobin simply huffs, his hands going to hold onto your hips to fuck into you better, indulging in your fucked out face and dazed eyes as he smiles softly; slowly, he’s leaning in, lips brushing against yours as he speaks. 
“‘m so fucking stupid for starting all this,” he laughs softly, holding back a moan at the way you clench around him, your nails digging into your shoulder slightly, “Told myself I’d never catch any feelings like this— fuck, look at me now…”
“Just wanna keep you for myself— maybe I’m being selfish but… fuck,” you think you’re getting the gist of what he means— your free hand comes up to tangle itself in his hair as you close the gap between the two of you, hoping that you’re not misinterpreting his words as you feel him fuck you faster, setting a rhythm that has your eyes rolling back and your mouth falling open, so wound up from tonight that you think your legs might give out any moment now. 
“Soobin,” you whine out, pulling at his hair and shirt as you begin bucking your hips at him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock as you whine, “Please let me cum— please please please, need it so bad, just wanna cum, please?”
The way you’re whining and begging is more than enough to Soobin; he’s gripping your hips and fucking you harder, eyes widening slightly at the way your sounds increase in volume, too fucked dumb to even realize.
“Shit,” Soobin grits out, planting his hand on your mouth and telling you to quiet down, “You were really holding back, huh? There’s my girl, all loud and pretty for me.”
He’s cooing softly at the way tears well up in your eyes and spill promptly after; running over his skin, biting at his lip to suppress sounds of his own as he feels the way you become impossibly tight around him.
“You gonna cum? Pretty doll just wants to cream my cock, finally had enough of me using you, right?” The way you’re nodding mindlessly only spurs Soobin on, insanely turned on by the way you’ve become fucked stupid, “Come on baby, show me how good you feel, been waiting patiently to cum, such a perfect doll.”
He’s cooing softly and talking you through your orgasm— you don’t even realize that your legs have given out, and Soobin’s hands are flying to support you as he holds you up, pressing himself fully against you and grinding his hips into you as your head falls on his shoulder; your sounds are muffled by the fabric of his hoodie as you bury your head further into him, pressed entirely against the wall and left to Soobin’s mercy as you allow him to continue rutting into you slowly.
“Binnie,” you whine out, right next to his ears as you begin to speak quietly to him, “Want you to cum inside, fill me up please? Never wanted any other guys but you, just wanna feel you cum inside, please…”
Your soft pleas set Soobin off immediately— his hips are bucking into you so roughly that your body is jolting with every thrust, his head burying itself in your neck as he lets out a soft groan— you then feel the way he fills you up, warm cum staying inside from the way he continues to fuck you well after he’s calmed down, his shuddering breaths on your skin enough to know that how sensitive he is.
For a moment, you just stay there; pressed against the wall as Soobin slowly pulls his cock out of you, feeling the way his release begins to drip out from how much he filled you— your chest is heaving against his as you attempt to catch your breath, legs still weak as you take advantage of Soobin’s strength to help hold you up. 
Soobin’s arms wrap around your waist; he’s pulling you in even closer, your bodies melting together as he nuzzles his head into your neck, inhaling slowly as your own hesitant hands come up to embrace Soobin.
“Sorry I was so horrible to you,” he says, littering kisses on the exposed skin of your neck before he continues, “But I did mean that whole thing about catching feelings— the timing’s horrible, I know— but….”
You hum softly, as though lost in thought, “How long have you felt like this?”
“I… this whole time,” he admits, his face growing hotter at the confession, “I was just in denial half the time we did this whole thing— god, why do you think I suggested it in the first place…?”
You hold back a laugh— Soobin however, is nervous at your lack of reaction, pulling away from his hiding place to analyze your expression.
“I’m sorry. Is this weird? I understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m really sorry if you felt uncomfortable with anything I did today, I seriously don’t know what I was thinking—“
You’re cutting him off with a kiss— but it’s gentle this time, and you really take a moment to feel his soft lips as you feel him smile against you, his cheeks warm under your touch as you finally pull away. 
“Soobin,” you say softly, smiling fondly at the way he lets out a soft hmm? in response, “I feel the same. But yeah, you were a fucking jerk with me.”
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately, cupping your face as he sports the look of a kicked puppy, eyes filled with nothing but guilt, “I’m sorry, I seriously never meant to go that far, I should’ve just asked you out like a normal person instead of being so mean.”
“I don’t know,” you say, pouting softly as his eyes widen softly, seemingly afraid of what you might say; you simply peck at his lips chastely, unable to hold back your laugh at his expression, “I kinda liked it.”
Your words are horribly confusing to Soobin— but hey, at least he knows how you feel. 
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insecure-snek · 2 months
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I feel like this is probably an unpopular opinion (that’s why I’m posting here and not on twitter) but I just wanna know if anyone else feels this way.
Obviously, I think Wilbur is the one Shelby is talking about, and as someone who was also abused, I feel stronger hearing her story. I hope she’s able to find peace soon.
Maybe I’m just an overly optimistic person, but I think Wilbur needs help. A lot of it. And I think, probably not a popular idea, that even though he’s a piece of shit in this situation, that he deserves it.
I’m an overly trusting person by nature. Obviously I wasn’t there when any of this happened. I am just a stranger on the internet. I don’t know what went on, I didn’t see anything happen. However, I think I want Wilbur to get better and I think he can.
He needs to be deplatformed. At least until he has PUBLICLY apologized to Shelby, and is showing to his friends (not us, the audience, not only Shelby, EVERYONE HE KNOWS PERSONALLY) that he is making an effort to never treat another person like that again. But I think, and please don’t come with your pitchforks for me, the person Wilbur abuses the most is himself.
He clearly has other problems that are not making him a good person. Mental health is not a excuse for poor behavior. However, it is an explanation. Your mental health issues and trauma are not your fault, however, managing both those things are unfortunately YOUR responsibility. They are HIS Responsibility to fix and manage, not Shelby’s, not Phil’s, not James, NO ONE BUT HIM.
Call me stupid, or crazy, or whatever, but I firmly believe in the idea of (almost) every human being capable of change. I have siblings who used to treat me terribly, who are much older than me, and I was hurt by them. But as I grew, I saw them realize just how terrible they treated me. They changed their behavior, and apologized to me many many times. They showed me people can wake up and change their lives around. And, whether or not Wilbur comes back to content creation, I hope he gets the help he so clearly needs.
Shelby owes him nothing. His fan base owes him nothing. His friends owe him nothing. Wilbur owes them everything. Shelby deserves to hold back her forgiveness when it so clearly isn’t deserved. She should never forgive him if she doesn’t want to. That’s her right.
Maybe I believe in people too much. But I truly hope he changes. Not only for his friends, family, and loved ones, but for his own sake. He’s going to end up dead if he continues this way, and I believe no one deserves to die. (I’m not even for the death penalty. Let them sit and suffer forever).
Anyway, get some rest all, drink some water, and remember that the world becoming a better place starts with you. Treat people the way you wanna be treated. 💕
Update: Wilbur’s response was absolutely awful, no surprise there. As someone else who responded said, abusers often don’t think of themselves as such. I still hope he gets help. Props to ranboo and all the others standing up to him. I hope this wakes him the fuck up. Until further notice, please stop supporting him. Unfollow him, un add his music, whatever you can to get him to deeply regret this shit he’s done. Those were his actions. These are the consequences.
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twiixr4kidz · 4 months
Note
PRAYING YOU GIVE US SOME THE EVIL EXES X A DUMBASS S/O PLEASEEEE
Like they're so dumb it's not a joke- like imagine Roxy asking her s/o about the menu at a restaurant they're going to and they go "babe....I'm a lesbian." And it takes a full FIVE MINUTES for them to figure out what she meant
OMG YES i am a certified dumbass so this was very easy to write
matthew patel:
listen....... he gets it
he isn't the sharpest tool in the shed
it's like when you're around each other, your brain cells disappear
most discussions end in the two of you looking at each other, very confused, whatever conversation you were having being long forgotten
he doesn't mind re-explaining thinsg to you if you don't understand them
he thinks it's kinda cute honestly
lucas lee:
he is the himbo-est himbo to ever himbo
honestly most of ramona's exes are dumb but in different endearing ways
i can tell you for a fact that he'll tease you for one thing and then proceed to do it immediately after without even realizing
OR HE'LL TRY TO LIKE SHOW YOU WHAT YOU WERE DOING WRONG AND HOW TO FIX IT AND THEN HE MESSES IT UP HIMSELF LMFAO
"babe, that's not how you do a kickflip. THIS is." (he bails and breaks his board)
todd ingram:
todd is probably one of the most confused people you will ever meet
sometimes you say things that completely baffle him
im talking something so dumb his jaw is hanging wide open and he's rendered completely fucking speechless
and you're confused as to why HE'S confused because you thought you explained what you were saying really well
but you very much did not
there are so many conversations you have with him that are cut short because he doesn't know how to respond
"hon... look at me... what?" "huh?" "did you hear a word you just said?" "wait... what did i say?"
roxie richter:
she thinks it's cute!!!
most of the time
other times, she's genuinely concerned for your sanity
"so... whatcha wanna eat?" "babe, im a lesbian" "...what?" "what do you mean what?" "i know... you're a lesbian... i was asking about the food..." "OH"
you cannot hear apparently
she thinks it's funny whenever you do that thing where you hear her but you don't process what she said so you go "what" and then you cut her off when she tries to explain cuz you finally have an answer
she thinks it's HILARIOUS
kyle katayanagi:
he thinks it's hysterical
like you know this motherfucker is the ultimate tease
you don't know the answer to a question? you say something that sounds dumber than you intended it to?
you know damn well he's getting on your case about it
and honestly he loves it
he knows he's smart but he's fascinated by your sheer stupidity
he doesn't mind explaining things to you either
but you aren't getting out of an explanation without him calling you, and i mean this in the most affectionate way possible, a dumbass
ken katayanagi:
he's ALSO very fascinated with the fact that none of your millions of brain cells work
even when it comes to what he thinks is a simple concept, it takes a lot of explaining for you to understand
this is explaining that he doesn't mind doing
maybe his knowledge is just a little TOO advanced
he can never tell if he's the one whose too smart or if it's just your natural dumbness
it confuses him
he's enamored
literally say one dumbass thing around him and he's gonna have you pinned to a wall in the most intense makeout session of your life
gideon graves:
listen... gideon isn't as much of a douche as everyone makes him out to be
he thinks you being dumb is adorable
something about his weird thing for control and how he loves to explain things to you
he doesn't wanna control in a toxic way, let me just get that out there
he just loves how you never seem to know what's going on
god he loves it HE LOVES IT
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jeonqkooks · 7 months
Text
our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)
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You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.
pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @wintaerbaer, and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind
series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself
New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler
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The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again. 
His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.
Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties. 
You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.
“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”
“Want you…”
“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”
His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.
“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.
“I want you.”
Truth.
You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.
“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”
If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.
He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.
Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.
“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”
“You were drinking.”
“I’m not drunk. I promise.”
Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.
He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.
You haven’t seen him like this in so long.
Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.
He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.
Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.
Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.
“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time. 
“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.
Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.
His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.
“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”
He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.
“What are you doing?”
He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”
You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”
Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.
He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.
“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins. 
“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”
You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come. 
His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily, 
Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.
This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.
No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.
Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.
“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.
He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.
The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”
“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.
He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.
Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.
But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.
“Are you clean?” you ask.
It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.
“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”
He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.
“I’m sure. I promise.”
Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.
“How long has it been?”
Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes. 
“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”
“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.
For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.
Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”
“Give me a minute.”
“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.
“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.
He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.
His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit. 
You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.
“You can move,” you say after a while.
“I’ll go slow, okay?”
“Okay.”
He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly. 
“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”
He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.
You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.
No, this is something else entirely.
I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.
“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”
“Did you think about me?”
“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.
“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”
“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.
You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.
He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.
How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.
“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.
“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”
“Okay.”
Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.
He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.
“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”
Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.
You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”
The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”
“Mean it.”
“I do mean it. I love you.”
Truth.
For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.
Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.
“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.
You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”
“Where do you want it?”
“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.
But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.
You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.
“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.
“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”
Jungkook groans at your answer. 
He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline. 
He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.
You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so. 
Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.
You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all. 
When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.
He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.
The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.
Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.
“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.
When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.
It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.
Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”
You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.
“Anything.”
You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.
“Tell me you can’t live without me.”
He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”
Truth. You know it’s the truth.
Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”
His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”
The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.
But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.
He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it. 
He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.
It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.
The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.
You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.
“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.
“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”
“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”
“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.
“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”
Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.
He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.
Are you gone forever?
Come back quietly.
“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.
The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.
“What?”
“How old are you?” you repeat.
It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”
"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."
His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.
No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.
“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”
Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.
He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time. 
You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.
There’s more to it, and you need to know.
“Then why did you leave me?”
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Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.
You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.
A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.
Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.
What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.
Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.
He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.
He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.
Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.
When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.
Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?
Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.
It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.
It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.
She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.
“If you love her, you would let her go.”
Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.
He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.
She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.
Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.
The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.
Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.
He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do? 
She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.
That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.
He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.
July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.
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You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”
“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.
You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.
“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m sorry.”
His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.
Again with the apologies.
Fuck this.
It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.
You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.
You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.
He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.
“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?
“Y/N, wait-”
“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”
He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”
You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.
“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”
“What?”
“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”
“Y/N, I’m serious.”
There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”
Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.
It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.
“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.” 
He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.
He might bruise in the morning.
You hope he bruises in the morning.
The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.
You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.
But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.
Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.
You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.
This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.
The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.
You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?
“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”
You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.
You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”
It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.
“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”
“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can’t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...
In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.
“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”
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up next...
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our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 30, 2023]
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froschli96 · 8 months
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As an asexual Good Omens fan
There's something I've noticed in this fandom that makes me really uncomfortable, and that is the way that Crowley and Aziraphale's possible asexuality is constantly being connected to and justified by them being not human.
I just honestly really hate that, because implying that asexuality is something that somehow "logically" follows from characters being nonhuman is ... not great. Like, I hate having to be the one to point this out, but asexuality is, in fact, very much a human attribute.
And unfortunately, most of the time when I come across this take, it doesn't feel like someone seeing themselves in the characters and relating to their experience, but rather an othering, this kind of otherwordly pure non-sexualness, where people put these characters above such trivial things like sexuality.
I am not asexual because I am somehow confounded by this oh so complicated human concept of sexuality, or because I don't ever think or care about sexuality at all (a lot of thinking was unfortunately involved actually before I finally came to a conclusion about my identity) it is just a fact of who I am, as a human being, it’s a part of my human experience.
And let's be honest, attributing asexuality to nonhuman characters is not the hot new take a lot of people seem to think it is — this trope has been around for ages. And it hasn't done a great deal to normalize asexuality. In fact I'd argue it's perpetuated an othering of ace people, but you take what you can get, really. (This is not to say that it is in any way wrong to identify with these kinds of characters, I definitely do, too! It's just sad that the topic of discussion is always about how "human" someone can be considered when they don't feel sexual or romantic attraction)
To be honest, I don't actually see A&C being asexual as canon — as a lot of people seemingly do — just because the author kind of suggested it in a tweet where he basically conflates "asexual" and "sexless" (for the record, this is not a dig at Neil, I just think the implications were kind of unfortunate, even if it might not have been intentional, which makes it all the more frustrating that a lot of fans just ran with it). And yeah, going around calling people aphobic for seeing the Ineffable Husbands as gay rep or any other identity, when they’re oh so obviously canonically ace, is honestly kind of insane.
I get that it might feel nice and tempting to be able to "claim" these characters and this relationship and being able to tell other fans off whose headcanons on their sexuality differ from your own because it is hard to come by any kind of representation when you're ace and there's finally a creator who's not only not contemptuous towards but even supportive of fans reading his characters as queer. And if you feel represented by A&C as it is then all the more power to you. But the thing is, it doesn't matter what kind of justifications there are or what canon might or might not say (bc when has that ever mattered in fandom spaces) or what the creator says, you cannot convert people to your opinion about a character, and you're going to have a bad time if you spend your time in fandom trying to do that.
And really, I am just wondering why we necessarily even need an explanation or justification for them possibly being asexual. Why does it have to be that all angels and demons are asexual by virtue of being nonhuman, and so A&C have to be too? why can't that just be an aspect of them that is completely unrelated to them not being human? Could these characters maybe not simply identify as asexual, not because they're nonhuman, but in spite of it? (btw, in the same vein it is equally stupid to argue that A&C can't be ace because they have "gone native", which is also an argument I've come across)
Honestly, I'm not even asking anyone to fundamentally change how they see these characters here — if you think they must be asexual solely because they're angels and have no concept of human sexuality, then whatever, I can't stop you and I don’t want to police anyone's headcanons bc as I said that's stupid and a waste of time. What I am asking you is that you maybe reflect a little bit on why exactly it is that humanity and sexuality are somehow so intrinsically linked in your mind to the point where you automatically use it as a way to distinguish between human and nonhuman characters.
Anyways.
Tldr: please stop equating asexuality with non-humanness thank you and good day.
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nicksnosering · 3 months
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I Hate Myself For Loving You
~Toxic Chris Sturniolo One Shot~
TW: toxic! chris, marijuana, no aftercare, chris is a dick
This is my first story I've ever posted on tumblr, so pls be nice!
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me: hey, you coming over tonight?
read at 9:06pm
It’s been 4 hours since I sent that text, and almost 2 since it was marked as ‘read’. I bit my lip, sighing as the internal debate on whether I should double text or not was practically eating me alive. Grabbing my phone that I’d been trying too hard to ignore off of my nightstand, I swiped it open and decided fuck it.
me: christopher. stop ignoring me.
The response came through almost immediately.
DO NOT ANSWER: why?
I rolled my eyes, pushing aside my pride as I sent my next message.
me: just come over.
DO NOT ANSWER: i’m busy.
me: doing what, fucking ur other bitches?
DO NOT ANSWER: yeppppp
me: ok 👌🏼
I groan out of frustration, throwing my phone back onto my nightstand. God, he’s infuriating. We’ve been fucking for close to five months now, and every time it seemed like there was any sort of breakthrough, like maybe he actually liked me or cared about me, we went right back to where we started. I press play on the remote, but my mind is spinning far too fast for me to actually focus on the TV.
I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. If he’s going to treat me like an option instead of a priority, he can go fuck himself. I grab my phone off of my nightstand again, hovering over his name before shaking my head and pressing ‘Block Contact’. Just like that, five months down the drain. 
I ignore the aching feeling in my chest, like I’m about to be ripped open from the inside, snuggling further in my sheets and letting the warmth envelop me before slowly drifting off to sleep.
The peacefulness of being unconscious didn’t last long. 
I woke to the sound of my front door being pounded on so hard, the hinges sounded like they were about to fly off. I turn and check the time on my phone blearily, the screen reading 2:13am. I pull the covers off and pad over to the door, rubbing my eye as I unlock it. The door immediately opens, and I look up to find Chris staring at me, eyes slightly red and hair messy. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are narrowed, briefly looking me up and down before brushing past me and walking straight into my living room.
“Get out, Chris,” I say tiredly, vaguely gesturing toward the open door I’m still holding.
“Nah, I’m good,” he responds, falling back onto my couch and kicking his feet up, resting them on the coffee table. His hands go into his hoodie pocket, and I watch as he pulls out a preroll and a lighter.
“I’m serious. Get the fuck out,” I say, slightly more aggressively, ignoring the way my heart squeezes in my chest. I watch as he flicks the lighter and the end of the preroll turns a bright red. He takes a hit, inhaling deeply and looking back up at me.
“So am I,” he breathes out. “You’re not going to block me and expect me not to fucking show up expecting an explanation.”
I shut the door and sit down next to him on the couch, turning to him. His hand immediately goes to wrap around my waist, and I hate myself for the way I want to curl into it. Even with me being as mad as I am, he still looks insanely hot, his sleepy eyes tracing over my figure in my pajamas. He knows I love when he wears that stupid fucking black hoodie. 
I push his hand off of me, scooting a little further away and wrapping my arms around myself.
“You’re such a dick, you know that?” I ask. 
He smirks, throwing an arm around the back of the couch before shrugging. “You love it.”
“No, I fucking don’t,” I growl, watching as he takes another hit. “And open a window or something, Jesus.” He knows how much I hate it when he smokes in my apartment. The smell lingers for a few days and all it does is remind me of him, of how much I can’t stand myself when he leaves after letting him in, again and again.
He leans forward, placing his hand on my thigh and rubbing it softly before blowing the smoke directly in my face. I stare at him, unimpressed, and he chuckles. “Come on, ma. Don’t be upset. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“Do you really expect me to forgive you for being an asshole just because you’re here now? At 2 in the fucking morning?” I glare at him. Goosebumps emerge on my thigh as his fingers continue to rub small circles into it, and I shiver.
His lips curl upwards as he takes another hit. “Your body sure seems to,” he says cockily, putting out the preroll and wrapping his arms around my waist. My body does betray me this time, and I lean into him as his fingers trace my hipbone. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight,” he whispers lowly.
“Yeah, I’m sure I was the first thing on your mind when you were balls deep in another girl,” I huff. 
He laughs. “Okay, she was first. But you were second.” His hand comes up to my jaw, cupping it softly and forcing me to look at him. “Stop acting like you hate me. We both know how this night is going to end,” he says, leaning in and capturing my lips with his own.
I whine as I try to pull back, but his hand on my jaw stays firm, holding my mouth against his. His other hand slowly slides up my thigh until he finds the waistband of my thong, and his finger hooks underneath before letting it go, resulting in it slapping harshly against my hip. I yelp and pull back, and he chuckles as his fingers rub the red mark softly.
“God, you know how hard it gets me when your cheeks are all flushed like that,” he mumbles, dipping his head down and beginning to suck on the skin directly above my collar bone. I let a small moan slip, and grit my teeth at how little willpower I have when it comes to this man.
“Chris, stop,” I whisper, but it sounds too breathy for my own liking. He pulls off of my neck, admiring the mark his teeth made briefly, before looking back into my eyes.
“You don’t mean that,” he says, grabbing my hips to pull me onto his waist. My thighs rest on either side of his and he grinds up into me, his hard erection rubbing against me through my paper-thin pajama shorts. I groan, letting my head fall onto his shoulder, and his fingers dig in, grinding me against him roughly. A small whimper leaves my mouth, slicing through the silence in the room. I wince, stilling my hips, trying to regain the last semblance of composure I have. 
My heart squeezes in my chest as I look down at him beneath me, my brain flooding with every toxic memory of us together. The time he kicked me out of his car, leaving me stranded on the side of the road after an intense screaming match. The time he called me a fucking bitch in front of his friends, laughing in my face. The time he swore he didn’t go and fuck that girl I hated in my biology class, promising he wouldn’t do that to me. 
That one hurt the most, considering I had to find out from my own sister 2 grades below me. 
But with the bad came the good, such as the mind-blowing orgasms and the way his mouth fit against mine and the way his fingers fit into me just right, crooking and teasing and pumping exactly the way he knew I liked. Like he knew my body better than I did. 
With my jaw set, I place my hands on his chest, steam practically blowing from my nostrils. I hated myself for this, and he knew that, and I knew he knew that. Any attempts I have at stopping this now are futile. My body needs him. 
“Fuck you,” I breathe heavily, rolling my hips against his. My mouth trails to his jaw, his neck, down his chest, and a low moan escapes him as his fingers find their way to the waistband of my shorts, slipping down the front and past my thong to gently rub at my entrance, before plunging two fingers deep inside without any warning. My hips jolt forward, meeting his fingers where they connect to his hand before he starts curling them inward, and… my last shred of self control has completely dissipated. 
I feel his chest rumble with laughter as a few small moans leave my lips. “If you insist,” he whispers, thumb finding my clit and giving it a few lazy circles. My head falls forward onto his chest and I can’t stop myself from biting into his shoulder to quiet my moans.
His other hand tangles its way into my hair, yanking my head back and forcing our gazes to lock.
“You can cum if you want to, but you know I’m getting inside that cunt one way or another.” His thumb speeds up across my clit and I can feel my body shaking, getting close to plummeting over the edge.
My eyes flutter shut, and I’m quickly rewarded with another sharp tug on my scalp. “Look at me,” he commands. And when my eyes meet his, I feel the waves washing over me, convulsing as he speeds up his fingers, mercilessly working me through my orgasm. 
I slump forward into his chest, and he pulls his fingers out quickly, leaving me empty in more ways than one. He wraps his arms around my waist and stands up, carrying me to my bedroom and tossing me onto the bed carelessly.
He pulls his hoodie over his head, tossing it into the corner of my room, and strides back over to the edge of the bed. His stature towers over me, and my mind is swimming with a thousand thoughts, not a single one of them protesting this any longer.
I’ve accepted what this is.
More than that, I’ve given up.
I’m irrevocably in love with him, regardless of his feelings toward me, and I can’t bring myself to care about the hurt it’ll bring. The hurt it has brought. All I can think about in this moment is getting him inside of me, and I try to disregard the niggling feelings in the back of my mind about how I’ll feel after.
There is no after. There’s only now.
My hand shakes slightly with anticipation as I reach up, tugging at his belt buckle and popping it open. I slide his pants and boxers down in one motion, and my legs spread on their own accord as he leans over me, lining himself up.
“I love you.”
It’s nothing I haven’t said before, but each time I do, I hope for a different outcome. Something other than the eye roll he always gives me, huffing and silencing me with a palm over my lips. Each time, I hope the sting is lessened, that he cracks and shows me the soft side of him I know has to be in there.
And if that’s the definition of insanity, then I should’ve been locked up months ago.
He scoffs, pushing inside of me to the hilt in one quick thrust. “I know,” he responds, hand coming up to wrap around my throat and prevent any further confessions from coming out. 
My moans are unstoppable as he pounds into me with brutal thrust after thrust, only caring about working towards his own orgasm. I thrust back against him, rolling my hips to meet his each time he’s fully inside, thinking that maybe… maybe if I’m good, maybe if I’m better than that other bitch he fucked tonight, he won’t run off like he always does.
Maybe he’ll want a round two. Maybe he’ll stick around for another joint. Maybe he’ll cuddle me after.
Maybe he’ll stay.
I push the thoughts aside, trying instead to focus on the intense amount of pleasure coursing through my veins and lighting up every nerve ending in my body. 
His chain rocks back and forth, slapping his chest in time with his thrusts, and I watch as his tongue darts out to lick away a stray bead of sweat trailing down his face.
His grunts are filling the room, mixing with my own to create a beautiful melody I want to record and play on a loop forever. His curls are falling in his eyes and his stomach tenses with each snap forward of his hips, and he consumes all of my senses as my body shakes and writhes beneath him, pleading for him to slow down and begging for more in the same breath.
I whine when he pulls out to just the tip, and his eyes stay glued to mine as he slams back in, causing me to let out a loud gasp. A smirk settles on his lips as he repeats his actions, and I feel my body coming completely undone, succumbing wholly to him.
“Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you?” he muses, panting heavily. He releases his hold on my throat, gripping the back of my calf instead and wrapping it around his waist, moaning at the pleasure the new angle brings. “So needy and wet every time. Like you were made for me.”
And I was. There is no one else.
It’s just him.
I can feel his thrusts getting sloppier, and I watch his eyelids droop as he continues his conquest over me, every muscle tensing before I feel his release inside of me, hot and heavy, marking me as his. Claiming me.
He groans loudly as he works his way through it, not sparing a single drop. I wrap my other leg around him and pull him as close as I can, not wanting to to let him go and be forced to accept it’s over.
When he’s finished, he drops down onto me for a moment, and I take my opportunity to brush my fingers through his hair, placing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. We lay like that for a while, but it’s far too short for my liking when he peels himself away and stands up.
My eyes follow as he goes over to where he threw his hoodie, pulling it back over his head before grabbing his boxers and doing the same.
All I can do is watch helplessly, begging with my eyes for him to stay. To get back into bed and hold me, kiss my shoulder and whisper that it’s always been me too.
He chuckles as he buckles his belt, situating it on his hips before looking back at me. “That was probably one of our best ones yet.”
“Yeah,” I respond emptily. I sit up and wrap the blanket around myself, feeling far too exposed now, both physically and emotionally.
“Alright, ma. See you later,” he says, messing with his hair absentmindedly before deciding its okay, and I watch as he grips the handle of my bedroom door, swinging it open.
“Chris?” I ask.
“Hmm?”
“Stay.”
He looks taken aback for a moment, but regains his composure quickly as he chuckles and rolls his eyes. “I’m good.”
And with that, he’s gone, and I feel my heart shatter a little bit more as I’m left alone, sticky and sweaty and naked, with nothing but the smell of weed lingering in my apartment to keep me company.
——————————
PT 2
254 notes · View notes
juyeonszn · 6 months
Text
SAME DREAM, SAME MIND, SAME NIGHT
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PAIRING kim younghoon x f!reader
WORD COUNT 3.60k
GENRES smut ﹒little bit of fluff ﹒little bit of crack tbh
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, fawn when she can’t get enough of the brothers best friend trope, hyunjae and jacob are side characters that never actually make an appearance, younghoon is wearing a ghostface mask for 2 seconds 😵‍💫, reader is down bad, younghoon is also down pretty bad, size kink — the obvious yk, he’s big everywhere tbh, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, missionary/lowkey mating press towards the end LMFAOOOO i’m sorry i got carried away, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, pussy drunk!younghoon (i lied he’s down horrendous), creampie, the couch is a paid actor, last scene is kinda silly kinda cute, lmk if i missed anything!!
SUMMARY hyunjae really shouldn’t have left you home alone.
MORE and day 3 of fawntober has made her entrance 😈 i’m curious,,, how do we feel about these so far? i feel like i’m focusing on this challenge more than i am my school work 😭😭
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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Being home alone has never been much of an issue for you. All throughout high school, you stayed home by yourself when your parents worked late and your brother had practice. And even now, well into adulthood, you’d never really been afraid of being alone.
If it were up to you, you’d live all by yourself. But unfortunately, rent was way too expensive to afford on your own. More fortunately, your brother had a spare room in his apartment for you. Pros included low grocery costs, low monthly rent, and free parking. Cons included living with your brother, living with one of his best friends, and having to deal with two grown men who sometimes acted like children.
It was a Friday night and both Hyunjae and Jacob were out, attending a Halloween party one of their friends was throwing. The holiday was only a few days away, so almost everyone you knew was hosting parties this weekend. Along with being content to stay alone in your home, you were even more so to never leave it. Going out and getting black out drunk or worse didn’t sound very appealing to you.
Nights like these were the rare occasion you got to be with yourself and some movies, snuggled with a blanket on your couch. Living with only men did not provide any luxuries except maybe someone to kill a spider every now and then. So you were abusing the fuck out of the opportunity, dressed in nothing but an oversized sweatshirt and some crew socks, a mug of hot cocoa in your hands as you watch the second installment of the Scream franchise. (Might as well get in the holiday spirit.)
There’s a knock at your door, causing you to raise an eyebrow. It was half past midnight and your brother mentioned that he and Jacob would be crashing over at Sangyeon’s after the party. You were also very much single, so you weren’t expecting anyone to come over either. The only other possible explanation was maybe a food delivery, but you hadn’t ordered anything.
You assume it’s someone at the wrong apartment and choose to ignore it, putting your focus back on the movie. Your mug raises to your lips, taking a long sip of the now lukewarm drink just as the movie’s plot begins to progress. Before you can fully revert into your concentration, there’s another knock.
A sigh escapes your mouth, setting down the mug and pausing the movie. Your sock-clad feet trudge over to the front door, expression flat as you undo all of the locks and swing it open. You jump at the sight in front of you, nearly dying of a heart attack on the spot.
A tall figure, dressed in all black and wearing a Ghostface mask stands on the other side, one arm resting on the threshold of your doorframe and their body weight leaning against it. When they realize they’ve almost killed you, they gasp.
“Oh my god, I forgot I was wearing this stupid thing.”
The person hurriedly removes the mask to reveal one of your brother’s other friends, Kim Younghoon. The tall male rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, apologizing for nearly making you faint. You clutch at your chest as your breathing stabilizes and your heart rate returns to normal.
“Jesus, Younghoon. Couldn’t you have said something before I opened the door?” You hold the heel of your palm to your forehead.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” he bows slightly, his eyes drifting off to something behind you. “Woah, wait, are you watching Scream 2 right now?”
“Uh, yeah?” At that moment you notice the silly coincidence that his costume happened to be Ghostface. “Do— um— do you wanna come in?”
“Yeah, sure.” He smiles, tucking his mask under his arm and following you into the apartment. He shuts the door behind him, making sure to hit all the locks as well.
As the two of you sit at the couch and you resume the movie, you purse your lips in confusion. You were curious as to why Younghoon was here in the first place, seeing as your brother was not. He had to have known that information himself considering he was dressed like he’d just come from a Halloween party. It only made sense that it was the same one Hyunjae and Jacob attended.
“Wait, so what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt. Shit, you weren’t wearing any pants…
“Oh! Right,” he nods, ruffling his hair a bit. “I woke up really early this morning and it was starting to catch up with me so I decided to leave Sangyeon’s party to head home. Hyunjae asked if I could stop by to check on you since it was on the way.”
A simple call or text from your brother himself couldn’t suffice? You guess the fact that Younghoon really did live close by coupled with Hyunjae’s intoxication might’ve been a factor in asking his friend for the favor. All you can do is hum in response.
You weren’t all that upset by Younghoon’s sudden appearance either, and you were more than happy to invite him into your apartment any time. Out of all of your brother’s friends, excluding Jacob, Younghoon was probably your favorite. Aside from having a little crush on his handsome face, he was the easiest to get along with and you felt comfortable around him. Sometimes you wish he was your other roommate instead.
But then again, the thought of him being so domestic around you was enough to send you into cardiac arrest, much like his accidental jumpscare from earlier. Just imagining waking up to him making coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, wearing your Hello Kitty apron, had your pulse quickening. Oh God, bumping into him exiting the bathroom after he’s showered? Nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his hips and droplets of water decorating his no doubtedly sculpted chest?
Did someone crank up the thermostat?
“Y/N? N/N. N/N… Y/N!”
You blink, snapping yourself back into reality. Younghoon waves his hands back and forth in front of your face, a cute pout on his lips. He really was not making this any easier for you. You clear your throat, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels.
“Y-Yes?” Why did you have to stutter, you fucking loser? There you go, blowing your cover.
“I was just wondering if you’ve seen the movies before. But you kinda spaced out on me there. You okay?” He asks, face full of concern. It doesn’t do much to quiet the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. If anything, it makes it ten times worse.
“Oh… Um. Yeah, I have,” your voice wavers. “And I-I’m fine, I swear. Don’t even worry about me.”
Your efforts to convince him are futile and instead of de-escalating the situation, you just add further fuel to the fire. He leans in to you, permeating your personal bubble as he examines your expression. If he moved even closer, his lips could land on your own, and the idea of that has you shrinking in on yourself.
“Are you… nervous around me?”
Did he have any sense of self-awareness? Did he think he wasn’t intimidating in this proximity to you? Kim Younghoon’s new talent just dropped; driving you to the brink of insanity!
You swallow thickly, eyes a little wide like a deer caught in headlights. Your line of eyesight falters to his lips, even more kissable now that they’re so close to yours. You shake your head when you realize that you haven’t responded, praying and hoping you were keeping your composure.
“I don’t really believe you, Y/N,” he says, tone no louder than a whisper, but so voluminous in your empty apartment. “So, I’m gonna rephrase my question. Are you nervous to be alone with me?”
When you process his words, you come to the conclusion that, yes, you are nervous to be alone with him. Your brother and Jacob were usually around when he was, so you’d never been in this position before. You’ve never truly been alone with Younghoon. Perhaps that was because you knew you couldn’t keep your feelings to yourself, afraid you might fuck up and say something stupid to him.
A few seconds pass with nothing but the noise of the movie still playing in the background, your lips pressed together. His eyes bore into yours, dark and swirling with something that looks a whole lot like lust. Your silence is a sufficient answer for him, one of his hands coming up to support his weight on the armrest of the couch behind you. The other trails up your thigh, the sheer size of it big enough to nearly cover the expanse of your skin.
Younghoon’s lips part when he slides under your sweatshirt and finds that you’re not wearing anything underneath. His eyes flutter shut with a sigh, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue.
“Tell me you don’t want this, tell me no before I lose all of my self control and I can’t hold back.” He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder, voice hushed.
The better, rational part of you wants to say no. It wants to tell him that you shouldn’t do this, because what would your brother think? Hyunjae would beat his ass if he found out about the two of you, especially on the living room sofa. Hell, he’d beat your ass for sleeping with one of his friends. But the part of you that was unhinged and has dreamt of this moment for years wants to say otherwise.
That part is what has you spreading your legs, taking Younghoon’s hand and leading it to where you need him most.
“Don’t hold back.” You breathe into his ear, your free hand coming up to the back of his neck and pulling his lips onto yours.
You whimper into his mouth as he kisses you, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your lace covered clit simultaneously. He’s by no means gentle, tongue tangling with your own roughly and desperately, as if he’s been dreaming of this just as much as you. He halts his motions, creeping further under your sweatshirt to palm your bare breasts and grind his hips into yours.
Your back arches off the couch, the feeling of his large hand on your chest goading your arousal. Younghoon presses open mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, sucking and nipping your supple skin, licking the abused area to soothe any pain. You can feel him even through the material of his black cargo pants, already hard for you. Without seeing it, you have an inkling of what you’re working with.
Younghoon’s always been tall, standing at six feet with broad shoulders. As long as you’ve known him, his height alone was enough to scare people away, despite the fact that he had the personality of a hyperactive puppy. But now, his body looming over yours and his touch all over your skin, you can’t help but feel turned on by his size alone.
“Can I finger you?” He asks suddenly, slowly pushing up your sweatshirt so he can expose your cute panties. You nod frantically, biting the hem of your top to keep it out his way as he pushes your underwear down your legs with one hand. “Wanna prep you as best as I can, baby.”
He smiles at you again, and in spite of being in such a compromising situation, he looks so stunning. You remember the reason why you’ve had a crush on him this long, because aside from his beauty, he was also doting and caring, willing to go above and beyond for those near and dear to him.
You squirm a bit beneath him when his middle finger glides through your folds with ease, you slick providing enough lubricant for him. He all but groans, inserting the digit into your entrance. Your moans are muffled by your sweatshirt in your mouth, his long finger so deep inside of you it brushes that one spongy spot you could never reach yourself.
Younghoon uses his thumb to circle your clit as his finger thrusts in and out of you, kissing along your jaw. He glances down and moans at the sight of your tits jostling around with each pump of his finger. He lowers his head to attach his mouth to one of your nipples, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.
There’s so much going on, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head when his finger curls and his teeth scrape the swell of your breast. If his slender middle finger wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, then the sound of him being so vocal was, vibrations spreading on the surface of your skin. Younghoon adds the slightest amount of pressure to your clit when he sinks his pearly whites into your collarbone, coaxing your orgasm.
He swallows your whines, waiting until you’ve stopped spasming under him to slow his assault. He pulls his hoodie over his head, helping you remove your sweatshirt afterward. Your chest heaves, watching with heavy eyelids as Younghoon scoots himself further down the couch. He brings himself eye level with your cunt, experimentally blowing air on your core. You shiver, biting the inside of your lip and running a hand through his hair.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he makes eye contact with you, pressing a sweet kiss to your clit. “Can't believe you’ve been hiding this from me.”
Younghoon pushes your knees up to your chest, hands digging into the fat of the backs of your thighs. The position gives him better access to your glistening cunt. He licks a long line from your hole to your pelvic bone, flattening his tongue against you and repeating once more.
“Fuck, Hoon,” you mewl, holding the back of your hand to your forehead. “That feels so good.”
He hums, lips wrapping around your clit and giving it a harsh suck. That particular action rips a loud moan from your vocal cords. He doesn’t get any gentler, sliding both his middle and ring fingers into you as he continues making out with your pussy. Your head feels light and airy, your brain incapable of producing any coherent thoughts aside from how badly you need his cock inside of you. His thick fingers aren’t enough, you need more. You need him to fill you completely.
The pads of his fingers continuously brush along your velvety walls, inching you closer and closer to your tipping point. You aren’t sure you can last much longer, especially with the promise of having him fully following this. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he wound you up and knocked you over the ledge again, like he was already so familiar with what you needed.
He swirls his tongue around your clit, alternating between curling his fingers and straightening them. It’s as if he’s doing a come-hither motion. Your whines are uncontrollable at this point, tugging at his hair with every suckle of your engorged skin. The sting on his scalp has him moaning against your cunt, the resonance shooting through your whole body.
“Shit shit, I’m cumming— I’m—“
Your hips buck up towards his mouth, his skillful tongue and fingers still working your overstimulated pussy until you’re begging him to stop. Good God, you already finished twice and he hadn’t even properly fucked you yet. You’re a panting mess beneath him when he parts with your lower lips, chin shiny with your release.
“You can give me one more, right?” Younghoon licks his lips to taste the remnants of your sweetness, wrapping them around his fingers to do the same thing. You let out a strained moan, nodding and connecting your mouths to kiss him roughly.
He laughs into the kiss, pulling back to tuck your hair behind your ear. His eyes resemble crescent moons, crinkled at the sides. His duality gives you whiplash. How could someone so sexy be so adorable at the same time? It was beyond you.
He goes to unbutton his pants, kicking them along with his underwear off his legs as he leans down to kiss you again. You gasp when you’re finally given the opportunity to see his dick, hard and flushed for you. You reach down to stroke him, reveling in the hiss he makes when your thumb glides over his sensitive tip.
You guide him to your entrance, but he pauses. “Wait, I don’t have anything on me.”
“It’s okay, Hoon,” you place a comforting hand on his cheek. “I trust you. I’m clean, I’m assuming you’re clean, and I’m on birth control. I wanna feel you— all of you.”
His head falls to your shoulder once more with a groan, his cock prodding your hole almost instantaneously. You exhale through your nose heavily, the stretch burning so good that you’re raking your nails down his back. Even the feeling of his broad shoulders and back muscles beneath your fingertips sends you into a frenzy. He’s just so huge. You’d never wanted to be ruined by someone as much as you wanted to be ruined by him.
Younghoon coos when you start to whimper, slowly pushing himself all the way in to his pelvic bone. He massages the back of your thighs, still pushed to your chest, pulling out gently before ramming his entire length back in. He does this a few more times to ensure your cunt has adjusted to his size, but the thought of you wrapped so tightly and warmly around him is enough to make him bust without going through the motions fully.
Your sweet pussy is so inviting, sucking him in like a fucking aspirator. He risks a glance down to where his hips meet yours, moaning so uncharacteristically at the sight of you enveloping his cock, coating it with your previous release. You clench when the sound hits your ears, provoking one of your own.
His thrusts are calculated, dragging them out so they’re deep rather than shallow. Despite not pounding into your brutally, like you were used to with past partners, you think you like this better. You can feel all of him this way. Every vein, every pulse, every fucking graze along your insides— as if he was meant to be there.
“You’re taking me so— fuck— so well, baby,” he breathes, voice hoarse in the crook of your neck. “Don’t know how much longer I can last.”
“G-God, you’re s-so b-big,” you cry, sinking your fingernails into his shoulder blades. “I feel so— oh my god— feel so full.”
You look so pretty underneath him, he doesn’t even care that he might go to hell for fucking you. He’d let Hyunjae murder him any day of the week if it guaranteed his spot above you, cock buried to the goddamn hilt. He places his forearm behind your knees, pressing your legs flat and practically folding you in half so he can speed up his tempo.
Younghoon throttles into you at a near animalistic pace, skin slapping on skin echoing throughout your apartment. You’re fucked stupid, noises that you can’t comprehend leaving your mouth to punctuate every single drive of his dick in your cunt and eyes fluttering shut. His tip kisses at that one spot that scratches your itch each time.
One particular gyration of his hips snaps that cord in your stomach and you’re cumming a third time, jaw going slack as your body spasms with the force of your orgasm. You produce no sound, the wave of your release cresting like a jolt of euphoria to your head, Younghoon following suit. However, his reaction is the opposite, so cacophonous and pornographic that it prolongs the twitching of your velvet-like walls, milking him dry of everything he can offer.
As both of you come down from your peaks, oxygen recirculating in your brains, Younghoon sighs and slips out of you. You wince, still so very sensitive from all three of your orgasms and how aggressively he was hitting it those last few minutes. You watch with choked groans as a combination of your cum flows out of your cunt onto the sofa.
Hyunjae was going to lose his mind.
“Shit, we gotta clean this up,” you panic, finally sobering up and moving into a sitting position. “I’d prefer to live long enough to tell you how much I like you.”
“Woah, wait,” his eyes widen animatedly. “Y-You like me?”
You gape at him, confused how after everything you just did together, he would think you didn't have feelings for him. “I just let you fuck me on the couch I share with my brother and Jacob. Do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”
“I dunno. Maybe you were just really horny?” He shrugs, scratching the back of his neck shyly, like he hadn’t just rearranged your insides six ways to Sunday. You get on your knees, capturing his lips in a soft kiss that portrays all the words you could’ve ever wanted to say and more.
“Does that answer your question?” You ask, pecking them once again. “I like you so much, Younghoon. I have since, like, my freshman year of uni.”
He smiles warmly, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. “That’s funny because I’ve liked you since then, too.”
“That makes me so happy to hear,” you giggle, nuzzling into his palm. “Okay, now get up so I can deep clean this fucking couch.”
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© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.
360 notes · View notes
desire-mona · 15 days
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things abt dps i feel like we dont address enough (photos attached will be shit quality, i took screenshots from yt clips LMAO)
heavily ib @pencileraser1's post abt stuff he noticed n such
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the fucking KIDS at welton. the CHILDREN. maybe its just me but i always find myself forgetting that welton isnt a highschool + there are in fact a lot more students than the ones we're focusing on. thats what makes welton so like. evil? to me? they start pushing these kids into a box EARLY.
related, i wouldve LOVED to see how(/if?) keating taught these kids, or rly any other class! he has other classes!!! i think!
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ok. of course. neil is a smoker, we've touched on that. but charlie is too?? and he's the one who provides the cigs???? obviously the easy explanation is that he does it to be rebellious and stuff but also Is There Something Else. much to think abt. also wondering where he gets his cigs but thats not rly anything i dont think.
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this ones just funny but when mr perry tells the boys they can take a seat and todd simply does not. i KNOW he wasnt sitting before and he needs to unpack and stuff but ITS STILL FUNNY.
"take your seats boys"
"🧍"
also my guilty pleasure is the dps but its todd being anxious video bc man usually crack videos arent my jam but unfortunately i find it so funny
also!!! neil calling his dad sir. obviously its something so glaringly obvious that we dont need to have a discussion abt how theres a disconnect between them. like wow rly thanks mona i didnt know. but come on!!! it makes me sad!!! also they shake hands later in this scene and its the most affectionate/ friendly we see these two get. and its a handshake. and i think what makes it worse is that neil is a SUPER physically affectionate person with his friends. if u watch the movie and pay attention to how often he's touching someone else then ur gonna be like man. he rly was jumping at every opportunity huh.
something about the way neil and the boys act around mr perry makes me view him as more of a drill sargent than anything. everyone immediately stands upon him entering the room. they dont sit until given permission. it rly puts the whole military school thing into perspective but NOT ENOUGH TO SATISFY ME. as much as i hate mr perry, i wanna know what his life was like growing up. this man lived thru the great depression AND wwii, theres stories.
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cam's stupid fucking face when keatings behind him larping ghosts. i will never stop talking about how sassy this kid is. the dps redheads go criminally unacknowledged in terms of comedy because OH MY GOD. CAM AND MEEKS WERE SO FUCKING FUNNY??? they both pulled the most dastardly judgemental looks and they make me cackle. a bit earlier in this scene meeks goes full 🙄🤨 on sniffles (tissue kid. i call him sniffles) and it is, without exaggeration, my fav part of the movie.
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the fact that i totally thought knox was gonna fall off his bike and eat shit in this scene. it would be so out of place since dps isn't exactly full of physical comedy but GOD i still fully anticipated it. either that or him getting attacked by a bird. theres totally symbolism surrounding birds in this movie btw and idk what to make of it. if any of u lovely ppl have a theory then lmk immediately.
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keating so accurately calling cam out being like "is this right is this right. am i walking right." BC YESSS. i will eventually make a fully fledged cam post but to briefly touch on it, i find cam to be very confused on what is right, usually in terms of morals. a whole situation of confusing your personal values with the rules, thinking theyre one in the same, and completely abandoning what u actually believe. unfortunately i think neils death rly amplified that nd is what led him to tattle. cuz cam is still willing to break the rules in the beginning of the movie!! he's outwardly judgemental but he still does it!! much to discuss, i promise i will eventually.
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keatings face after todd yawps!!! theres not much to say here he is just so proud!!! sweet little moment!!!! keatpostin!!!!!!!!
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
u guys know im an avid knox hater but this made me giggle. rip knox overstreet u wouldve loved twitch streaming.
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THE SPECIFICS OF THIS SHOT. i was gonna make a post a while ago being like "idk i find it funny that the main focus of this shot isnt even one of the poets" and then i realised that WAITTTTTTT THATS THE POINT!!!! keating reached kids besides the poets!!! u didnt have to be in the dead poets society to be affected by the way he taught his classes!!! u just had to be his student!!!!! also i love the fact that the kids who stayed seated r ASHAMED. EMBARRASSED.
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the ending shot. oihghgghgg. it was SUCH a choice to set it up this way and honestly i adore peter for making it. this shot is SOOOO UNCOMFORTABLE TO LOOK AT and i love it. when i first watched this i was like "uhm ok interesting choice putting todd between this kids legs but I GET IT. one of the biggest things i remember from the film classes i took is that the way u set up shots is sooo important narratively, and one way to rly push the narrative is the space around a character in a shot. for example! if u have a character on screen surrounded by a TON of negative space then it rly emphasises how alone/ isolated they are. on the other end of the spectrum (the todd spectrum), if you surround a character in a shot with other objects or obstructions, like todd and this kids legs, then it rly emphasises how trapped and confined they are. looking at this makes me feel like. claustrophobic almost, like it's genuinely a bit harder to breathe looking at it. TODD IS STILL TRAPPED IN THAT SCHOOL. YES HE STOOD ON THE DESK AND YES HE NOW HAS THE MOTIVATION TO BE MORE CONFIDENT BC OF NEIL BUT HE! IS STILL! TRAPPED THERE!
more on todd since im on a roll here.
i was also gonna add that we dont rly talk about todd personality wise outside of poetry and anxiety but then i realised, what else is there? we dont really see much about him as a person outside of that, and i think thats the point! todd is constantly overshadowed by his brother, we know that, but i dont think we realise HOW MUCH that ties in with his entire character. quite honestly, outside of poetry and anxiety, ALL we have surrounding todd is his brother and his achievements. and of course! that makes sense! his parents want him to be just like his brother, they dont care about who he is as a person. UGH.
the desk set scene rly is the most insight we'll get into todds actual personality and desires imo, and thats what kills me. he wants a car!!!! get this boy a car!!!!!!!!! we rly see him start to open up before neils death and i wouldve LOVED to get to know todd when he's actually in a place to be himself!! but of course we never got that! sobs.
anywho. thats all i have for now. PLEASE share ur thoughts if u have any pls pls pls. encouraging discussion!! i love love love hearing about the specifics nd stuff, theres soooo much to pick apart abt this movie so i wanna hear everyones thoughts.
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dotster001 · 2 years
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You know what a mean entitled girl is ? Like Idia, Vil, malleus, rook, crewel and Crowley standing up for the reader who is being harassed by a mean girl?
Maybe for Crowley and crewel the reader can be a teacher and the mean girl can be a rsa teacher?
Fluff plz
(thank you for the request and for brainstorming with me! I hope they came out how you hoped 🥺 this is a long one so buckle up folks)
Cw:mean girl stuff, use of slut in rooks part, fat shaming in Crewel's, fem!reader
A/N: I've said this in my pin post, but I age up characters to actual college age, because I am in college, and didn't realize until a few months in the characters were not. Everyone here is. 18+
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Moments like these were why he hated to leave his room.
But he had promised to meet you in the library so he could help you understand magic and technology. You wanted to learn all about this world you'd been thrown into, and had been told Idia was the best person to ask about this type of magic.
It's not like he could tell you no! You were his player 2, his Persephone  (not that he'd told you that yet, but still)!
He had arrived just in time to see a richly clad preppy looking girl walk over to your table. Upon a second glance, he realized it was the daughter of one of the higher ups at Olympos INC.
He hid behind a bookshelf and waited. "You're that magicless nobody at NRC, right?"
You gave a tired laugh and gave an affirmative.
"Then you're the one Idia Shroud has been spending all his time with." He watched as she took her perfectly manicured hand and grabbed a lock of your hair, dragging you closer. He felt like he was going to be sick, and you looked like it.
The smile never left her face as she said, "Listen, dearie, Idia Shroud deserves to be with someone of his caliber, not some stupid girl who can't even perform magic." 
Idia felt something snap in him. How dare she talk to you that way! He left his hiding spot and demanded to know why she thought she could treat you like that.
The girl let go of your hair and began stuttering out an explanation but Idia wouldn't have it.
"Y/N is perfect for me! She understands me, and cares about me, and is such a bad ass. I'd like to see you defeat an overblotting mage when you have no magic!"
She continued stuttering but he interrupted. "Y/N is an SSR character, and you're just a normie. So stop wasting my time and get out of here."
She turned pale and ran. After Idia's rage had cleared he got embarrassed and realized everything he'd said.
Please give him hugs! And don't mention his pink hair! He can defend you, but actually talking to you is different, so please be patient with him!
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Vil knew he wanted to date you, but he also knew that given his position, he would have to get both you and his fans used to each other. He was doing this by hanging out with you more in public, and posting photos of the two of you on friend outings.
It was ironic that his more aggressive fans would catch up to you on the day he had planned to ask you to be his girlfriend.
You were at a cafe, and he had had you pick out a table while he grabbed your drinks. When he turned around, he saw a crowd led by  a flawlessly styled girl.
The crowd was yelling at you until the girl held up her hand for silence. "What makes you think you can date Vil Schoenheit?" "Oh, we're not…" you tried to deny it but she interrupted you. 
"I've done some research on you. And from what I can see, nothing about you is worthy of him." You looked down at the table, and he heard you faintly whisper, "you're right."
The girl grinned. "I'm glad we have an understanding. Now get out of here before you embarrass yourself further."
You stood up to leave as Vil elegantly strode over to you. He gently took your chin in his hand and gave you a soft kiss on your lips. When he pulled back, he said, "I've got our drinks, my sweet potato, but I don't think we should stay here. The people here seem much too uncouth for my preferences." You gave a shocked nod, and the two of you left, the girl's mouth gaping in shock. 
Once you reached a secondary location, Vil apologized for kissing you without permission then asked if you were alright. Once you gave him an affirmative, he gently pushed your hair out of your face and with a coy smile said, "you know, I wouldn't mind the opportunity to kiss you again. After all, you owe me for the coffee, and for saving you from that crowd."
The next day, a photo of the two of you was posted on his magicam, officially announcing your relationship, and the caption stating that he had fallen for the fairest one of all.
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Malleus and you had been dating for quite some time, but had agreed to keep it quiet until his graduation and coronation.
Unfortunately, this meant that he was still receiving unwanted attention from both men and women who wanted a political marriage.
Today, a fae woman from a well off family was spending the day with him. He knew that her family had wanted a political marriage with him, but I stead of ruining all ties, he humored her request to visit him for the day.
It was needlessly bothersome. She was truly a skin deep woman, who spent most of the day flattering him, and batting her lashes at him.
The only good part of his day was when he got to see you for a couple of minutes at lunch time. You had sought him out with some extra sweets you had bought for him, introduced yourself to the fae woman and gone on your way. 
There was no reason for his guest to think anything of your relationship, but being the only girl in an all boy's school had her immediately deem you a threat.
Now, in the midst of her flattery, she was throwing in subtle insults at you, your standing, your character, anything she thought she could glean from your brief meeting.
"I can't even imagine what it is like for you to have to attend classes with a useless human." That did it. Diplomacy be damned. He whirled in on the woman, and the sky outside grew dark and stormy.
"Useless? Where were you when I was lonely? Where were you when I needed anything? Y/N is my child of man, your future queen, and you will treat them with the respect that a human of their intelligence, kindness, and beauty deserves." The woman cowered Infront of him, thoroughly chastised. He turned on his heels, and said, "This visit is over" without looking back at her.
As he was walking away he was surprised to find you running down the hallway. When you spotted him, your face relaxed in relief and you made your way to him.
"Mal Mal! I saw the storm, are you alright?" If he hadn't already fallen for you, he would have fallen deeper in love right then with your sweet eyes looking up at him full of concern, only for him.
"Yes my child of man," he cupped your face gently. "All is well."  The storm cleared, and all was well. He would protect you no matter who he had to upset. You were worth it.
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Rook was out hunting. For you. So he wasn't really hunting, He was just watching you from the top of a tree and basking in your presence.
You probably knew he was there. You were so incisive like that. It's why you were his favorite prey. 
As he watched, he saw a girl make her way over to you. He could sense only bad intentions from her, but what kind of hunter would he be if he intervened while you defended yourself!
The girl stood in front of you and gave a sugary artificial smile. "You're Y/N, right?" Once you gave a nod, she sat down with you.
She began to talk non stop while you just sat there listening. After a while he heard her say, "You know, most of the guys here have a crush on you." Rook held back a growl. He knew that, but said men who had a crush on you had an unspoken agreement not to say anything about it.
"Oh." That was all you said in response. Rook wondered if this was the first time you'd thought about it. It seemed to be. 
"Yeah," the girl continued. "And you're the only girl at an all boy's school." You looked like you were about to ask what she was doing here then, when she said, "I'm just here visiting my brother. But from what I hear, it seems as though you enjoy the attention." She gave a withering glare. "My brother says you'll spend time with any boy who asks. One guy isn't enough for you, huh?" Rook knew it was coming, but he was still filled with rage when he heard it. "Slut."
He jumped down from the tree immediately. The girl was startled, but you were not. He was right, you'd known he was there. But the pride he'd felt from that was overshadowed by the urge to protect his lapin.
"Mademoiselle, it would be better for you not to listen to baseless rumors, and then spread them around. It is not a beautiful look for you."
She tried to swallow her shock, and retort, "It's not baseless. I heard from my brother, and she clearly relishes the attention."
Rook tilted his head to the side. "Yes, I'm sure madame trickster enjoys the men who leer at her like a piece of meat. I'm sure she enjoys having to triple check that her doors are locked at night. And I'm sure she adores having to worry about the men who she turned down, of which I'm sure your brother is one." He gave her a withering glare. "Even if she did enjoy the attention, it would be no concern of yours."
She looked frightened, but still managed to storm off. He then turned his attention to you. "Are you alright mon ange?" You nodded, and thanked him for defending you. "Non, non, to see your beautiful face married with worry would be a burden I could not bear." He playfully placed his hat on your head down over your eyes, and relished in your giggles.
He knew today wouldn't be a good time to confess, but when he did, he would definitely want to hear more of that laugh.
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After you'd graduated, and still hadn't found a way to return home, he had offered you a job at the college as his full time assistant. After a couple years, and actually getting paid for your efforts, the two of you had become closer.
Trein was preparing to retire. You were at a meeting with a prospective new teacher who was applying for his position. You were taking notes while Crowley asked her questions. It was moments like these that he couldn't see himself without you. You were just the dynamic duo!
When the interview was over, he had you show her out. He was planning on asking you to dinner after this, so he was hastily trying to finish any remaining paperwork while he waited for you to return. 
It had been quite a while, and now he was starting to worry. You had handled numerous dangerous situations by yourself, so he knew you could handle yourself. But he still felt like he should check on you.
When he found you, you looked shaken as the teacher he  was interviewing was talking down to you. "That's what I thought. All that education was wasted on you. You'll never be better than an arm candy assistant."
He waited for you to fight back, but you just looked tired. How long had she been going at you like this? You'd never give up easily, so it must have been for just slightly too long.
"Y/N, there you are, I was beginning to worry." He strode over to you, "You know I can't possibly run this school without you right? You'd been taking so long, I'd almost accidentally sold the Savannahclaw dorm!"
"Again?" You said with a roll of your eyes. There he'd gotten your mind off her insults. Now to deal with her.
"You see, I'm mostly headmage in name only at this point. Y/N here is in charge of everything, the financials, admissions, student therapy, hiring. If we lost her, the school would surely go up in flames. My graciousness can only go so far!"
At the word "hiring" he saw the teacher blanch. She made a hasty excuse and apology, and dashed out of there.
"Thanks for your kind words, headmage, but I don't really deserve…" "It's Crowley, my dear," he interrupted. "And before you start telling yourself you don't deserve praise, you should know that even though I am endlessly kind, I don't throw words around lightly. I meant every bit of it." He gently took your hand. "I would be lost without you." 
You're smile was all the thanks he needed, and the two of you stood in comfortable silence for a moment before he interrupted it. "We should probably go buy back the Savannaclaw dorm though…." "Crowley!!!!!"
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Crewel had called you and Vil into his office after the fairy gala. Crewel had offered you a part time position modeling at his side company. You'd never considered yourself conventionally attractive, but they assured you that wasn't a problem. You had a great dignity, could hold up under pressure, and looked good in Crewel's designs. That's all that mattered.
At the time you had accepted because you figured it would be a great way to make some spare change to support yourself and Grim on until you went home, but as time went on you never went home, and now you had a rather large following, a diploma from NRC, and a full time job at his modeling company.
Crewel would rather spend his time with you, but he still worked at NRC, so he had left you for the day, and hoped he would get to see you work with the designer your manager had suggested for you when he came back.
He came back to see a woman in very heavy, very real looking firs, staring at you like you were dirt.
He walked in as she was circling you, and he recognized her immediately. He made a note to himself to fire your manager, because this designer was on his do not work with list, and he walked into what was surely a blood bath.
"Ah, Divus." She said coldly. "Would you care to tell me why this is your best model? She's quite plain, and much too fat for my work, that I had assumed it was a joke when I walked in here. And! She has something against real furs, and 'non sustainably sourced material's C'mon Divus. Has your company sunk so low?"
You were not fat. You just weren't skinny enough that you could count your ribs. There were two things that Crewel would not stand for; cruelty to animals, and cruelty to humans. Without fail, this designer always did both.  Normally he would have shown her out by now, but she had clearly gotten under your skin.
"Y/N is my best model. She isn't, she's just not starved, which I know is not your preference. She's got a good head on her shoulders, and understands the long term consequences a designer like you can have on our world. It's not even her world, but she still cares more than you. That should tell you something."
She was about to interrupt, but he smacked his whip into his palm. "Bad puppies do not get to speak. You would be lucky to work with a model as wonderful as my Y/N. Unfortunately, your luck has run out, and I will need you to leave the premises immediately.
The designer left with a huff. Crewel walked over to you. "Are you alright?" You gave him a smile and an assuring nod. He placed his hand on your head and missed your hair a little. "Good pup."
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beanghostprincess · 3 months
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I hc Sanji as being afraid of the dark bc of his trauma too.
I know Mosshead wouldn't tease him about it if he knew the reason behind it, but do you think he ever teased him about it BEFORE finding out why he's scared?
Yeah, obviously. I think Sanji would not talk about it explicitly but he'd try to make up excuses for them to just keep a light on or for him to sleep in the kitchen instead of the boys' quarters. And it's quite obvious that he doesn't like the dark much (that's how he says it but actually he's extremely scared of it and often has nightmares/panic attacks when it's too dark and quiet) so Zoro makes fun of it. I mean- To Zoro it's such a ridiculous fear to have and I'm pretty sure he'd make fun of that. Sanji would fight back but he wouldn't show (at least the first times they fight for this) that he's actually hurt by that. I think one day, for random reasons, Sanji has to deal with being locked in a dark place, and he has the worst time of his life. Maybe it's a bet or some shit like that and because Sanji is too proud he doesn't say no to Zoro, and he's scared but he doesn't want mosshead to know he's afraid. Yadda yadda. Things go terribly wrong and after they've taken care of a very shaken up and anxious Sanji, Zoro says he's a fucking moron and that he should've said this earlier, but of course, Sanji is like "yeah, and have you laughing at me again? No, thank you, I already have enough with this, marimo". Zoro would genuinely feel bad but he knows that no matter how many times he apologizes, Sanji is just going to blame himself. So Zoro throws some poetic bullshit like "fear isn't something to be ashamed of. And you have to fight against it every day, don't be so stupid and stop blaming yourself for shit like this" (poetic more or less, kind of). And they'd just understand each other then.
Also, to make it romantic because I am like this always: Sanji doesn't like sleeping in the kitchen either because it's uncomfortable and lonely and Zoro knows, so he just kind of forces Sanji to stop being so proud and sleep with him if that will make him feel safer. And Sanji is like "??????? no, no. What the fuck are you saying now, mosshead??? The only people I'm sleeping with are pretty girls-" / "You fucking wish. Why does it have to mean anything, anyway? You're so dramatic" and Zoro ends up holding Sanji like a big pillow so he doesn't escape and turns out that's, like, the best sleep he's ever had. It's either that or Zoro sleeps in the kitchen too with him without giving any sort of explanation and Sanji (<- idiot with a crush he won't accept) is literally dying.
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multific · 5 months
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Injury
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Astarion x Reader
Summary: Astarion has a strong affection towards you, so when you get badly hurt during a mission, he is mad.
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You woke to his yelling.
He was angry, perhaps beyond angry.
You heard him yelling and even stomping his feet. The others were dead silent. You assumed no one dared to speak up to the very annoyed vampire.
You were hurt, you went out with the team, assuring your Lover that you would be okay, but due to some unforeseen circumstances, you were hurt rather badly.
He was on his way back to your camp when he smelled the blood. Too much blood for his liking.
And he knew that sweet tint, a signature if you will, to confirm that indeed, the blood was yours.
And he saw red.
He stormed in and demanded an explanation.
You were badly cut during a surprise attack from a goblin. A cut deep and painful.
They tried to heal you with any potion, or magic they had but all failed. It was believed the sword which cut you was of a special material.
So, you were bound to bed.
And not long after you fell asleep, you heard the yells of your Love. He was angry and rightfully so.
You wanted to call out to him, tell him to come to you and hug you, help you sleep, but you couldn't, you were too weak.
Soon, you heard the entrance of the tent being moved and a warm presence filled your room.
You felt already a lot better.
And when your eyes met Astarion's beautiful ones, you moved your hand for him to hold. He sat down next to you on the floor and held your hand gently.
"My Darling, I am so sorry. How are you feeling?"
"My head hurts." you replied weakly.
"I smelled the blood... I was so scared, Love."
"I'm so sorry for making you worry." 
"Then never leave my side ever again." you wanted to laugh but your side hurt too bad, so you only smiled.
"It will leave a scar." you let out a sigh.
"A scar is the last thing I worry about. Your well-being is much more important." he leaned over and placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'll let you sleep now."
"Don't leave." you said as you grabbed his sleeve. 
"I'm not going to. I'll stay here with you, I just think you should sleep." you watched as he got into more comfortable clothing, which for him means only a pair of pants and he soon laid down beside you.
You slowly moved closer to him as your back met with his front and his arms moved to hold you even closer.
"I promise, I will never go out without you. It was stupid and I nearly died. I don't want to die." you felt his hand shake a little upon your confession.
"I don't want you to die either, My Sweet." there was a moment of silence, during which you felt as if he wanted to say something more. "I told you I would be able to turn you."
"I don't have enough blood in me to have this conversation, Astarion. And we talked about this before."
"I know. I'm just scared to lose you."
"I'm too stubborn to die, you know that." you felt him smile into your neck.
"Sleep now." he said and you had no objections.
Maybe one day, you will become a vampire. Maybe one day, you can make the promise of forever to each other and truly mean forever.
But you weren't ready just yet.
And until the day comes, you are going to enjoy every second with him. Because even if you are injured due to your own fault, he still held onto you so sweetly, he still kissed your hair with such admiration and love.
You were going to enjoy every second for now, before your forever with him starts.
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~Masterlist~
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bitethedustfools · 3 months
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New World, New Scars (pt 2)
I made this on a whim actually so apologies for this half-attempted story. I just wanted to see pathetic Yuu.
A short explanation for those who are confused, think of it as though Grim of the future recalled the past memories that are most memorable or any other way you guys prefered and that's why the scene are short and there's a lot of jumping.
Also, its very vague because Grim focused on the wrong (right?) thing. I might edit or change it though. Maybe.
Most memories focused on Yuu of course because Grim is always stuck with Yuu. Grim is selfish, tsundere and a bit oblivious. Its hard to write it ngl. Probably some wrong grammar too.
Yuu=He/him (edit)
-
Yuu is a very timid person. Grim knew that. Everyone does. He seen how easily his henchman got spooked by a sudden noise or movement.
Grim knew Ace like that part of Yuu, he would never fail to scare him with loud noise or barelling toward Yuu from out of nowhere and so on.
Ace would never get tired of Yuu who held his breath in and stood still like a statue when he approached from behind and grabbed their shoulder, as though Yuu tried so hard to erase his own existence.
Then, a crooked smile will plastered on his henchman's lips and he was just as wary as ever everytime Ace did this. His eyes will started to look for something in Ace's before looking away.
His henchman is a very strange guy with a strange stupid name. He's scared of silly things but he's not scared of ghosts.
-
There's a faint sobbing in one of the rooms on some nights and a familiar voice murmured assuring words.
"It's going to be alright. You're going to be alright."
Grim peeked through the cracks of the door. The ghosts hovered near his henchman whose back is trembling, one that Grim instantly recognized as crying. He knew that form, he seen Yuu done it so many time at night when Yuu thought Grim was asleep.
One of the ghosts pat lightly on his back and Grim unconciously shivered, the ghost had pat him once and all Grim felt was cold. Grim couldn't comprehend why his henchman like those better than Ace and Deuce or Grim himself who is warm and much better.
Yuu still avoided his touch.
-
Despite what everyone believed, Yuu was not really clumsy nor is he stupid and naive. Yuu is quick on his feet, faster reflex and sharp instinct. He's smarter than the ADeuce duo brain cell combined, Grim had to admit that even if Yuu struggle at first.
But those doesn't really stick out too much if the personality is a coward and being too… compliant.
Riddle, the Teapot tyrant who had loosened his controlling behavior and his devotion to rules must have spot something else that Grim is unaware of. He, accompanied by Trey, went to seek out Yuu who went rigid at their presences, a clear indication that Yuu is scared.
Riddle said he's apologizing for insulting his henchman's parents and their lack of education. He added that Yuu must have been in the same situation as him but with a different outcome.
Grim doesn't understands what he means but he understands what Yuu said.
His henchman looked startled as though he didn't expect that and couldn't understand why Riddle apologized. He stuttered, panicking.
"Oh, um, it's okay. It's just that, well, I'm an orphan, that wouldn't matter at all, right? I mean, I got adopted but um, uh, I don't have a parents anymore. I-I understand about the lack of education. I had–tried my best! I really, really am. I'm good at memorizing! I'm getting better. I won't let you do…wn…"
The words died down when Riddle and Trey's face went pale and morphed to horror.
His henchman snapped his mouth shut, a mixture of hurt and fear flittered across Yuu's face for a few seconds as if Yuu had said the wrong thing or maybe it's because of something else.
Yuu looked down, "I'm sorry. It won't happened again. I won't speak unnecessary things anymore, I promise."
Yuu ran before they could say anything and Grim casted a single glance of confusion before he followed Yuu.
-
"What's wrong with you?" Grim demanded, frustated at the silence. Sure it's always silent in this dorm but Grim just got aware of that and he's uncomfortable.
Like an instinct, Yuu replied with no hesitation. "I said too much. I'm sorry."
Yuu snapped his mouth shut and pretended nothing happened.
-
Trey confronted Yuu not long after that, bringing pastries with him like an appease gifts. Cater followed along, all smiles and laidback but both hides their intentions. It must be, after what happened yesterday, there's no way they'll come here for nothing but Grim is nice enough to keep his mouth shut with those treats presented before him.
Yuu seemed to know this. Trey and Cater began to question Yuu and Yuu will answered them short and simple. Too guarded and too composed though Yuu's meek personality still had traces on his expression.
Trey asked if he's okay. Yuu lied.
Cater asked where do he lived. Yuu told him and just like the mirror, no one knows where Yuu lived.
Yuu's bandaged hands had his fingers littered with band aids remained clean from the icing and crumbs while Grim's own paws and mouth are already covered by them. Yuu's eyes are strangely on him but Grim ignored it.
Trey asked with concern, "do you not like sweet things?"
"I'm not picky." Yuu replied.
"Then why havent you eaten them?" questioned Cater next, way too blunt.
It seemed to strike something in Yuu. His lips thinned, face went pale slightly.
"I'm sorry. I'll do it now."
No one missed how the hand tremored when it pick up the smallest slice of cake and how awfully relief Yuu looked like after he took a small bite and waiting for something to happen.
What is Yuu expecting for? It's not like these baked goods would kill him. It was the truth when Grim said Yuu is scared of such silly things.
Grim slowed down his munching when Trey and Cater looked at Yuu in a certain way. They seemed to found something worrying from that however.
-
There's something else that Grim found out about Yuu. There's something else that spook Yuu and that is magic.
He thought it was only his fire but Yuu recoiled harshly when magic is involved, especially when aimed at him. Those are just harmless tricks, Grim still doesn't understand why he is scared of this when he should be in awe.
Grim forced him to do the flying lesson together so his henchman can feel how great it is. It's fun, isn't it? Even if they almost crash to the ground?
He would shoot his flame with this new tricks he learnt. It's bright and brilliant, doesn't it look like a firework? He worked so hard to make it happened.
And what about Ace's wind magic? Or Deuce's ability to summon cauldron out of nowhere? And maybe Cater and Trey who can makes clones and change characteristic of an item respectively?
It makes life easier and fun with magic, isn't it? Grim doesn't understand why Yuu should be scared of it after some Savanaclaw use it on them. It was stupid, Yuu was stupid. More of a crybaby than Riddle ever was even though Riddle bawled only once before them and that's something.
Ace, Deuce and the others won't hurt Yuu. That's not a reason to be scared of them.
-
They both get invited regularly to the Unbirthday party. They both stood out clearly but they were treated nice by the host. Especially Yuu.
Grim complained lots of thing but he does not point out when Riddle lowered his voice and speak softly with a gentle expression or when Trey ate a certain pastry under Yuu's gaze before giving him the same thing or the fact that Cater praised Yuu and suddenly initiating skin contact and taking lots of pictures of them both.
Even Ace's pranks toned down only making harmless fun and Deuce was careful enough not to show his violence side. They acted too careful, whispering at each other.
His henchman fidgeted in the seat for being the center of their attention. Yuu looked uncomfortable. A wary and quizzical look on his face at the bizzare change of behaviour.
His henchman looked completely lost but he didn't said it out loud, merely going along with their play.
-
Then there's a spelldrive tournament that he learnt of from the headmaster. Grim thought that the event was the best thing he had ever heard where he can get to show their magic and impressed the audience and get famous. That's another way to be the Great Grim if he got recruited.
Grim also recalled the headmaster said something weird as well. Words like a "Clue" and "Home" popped up in the conversation and most are mentioned to Yuu whose hopeful expression went dismayed.
Grim can't remember what happened next since he didn't care about that but he recalled the brief looks of confusion aiming at Yuu from Ace and Deuce.
-
There was a bunch of accidents happening after that. People kept tripping down the stairs and then injuring their hands in a kitchen and alchemy class. The headmaster asked for Yuu's help and as usual, Yuu agreed even if his eyebag is more pronounced now.
He saw that Yuu's left hand crossed over his belly to cradled his right side like he's hungry but Grim remembered what happened when Riddle overblotted.
Grim declined the headmaster's needs for their help vehemently, well, until the headmaster said he will give him something he wanted. How could he say no? Grim did say he is very good at negotiating. Helping the headmaster solve this and then get to join the tournament sounds good enough. 
-
Cater had a bunch of infos on everyone and Riddle want to find the culprit that caused Trey to fall down the stairs in his place so they tagged along with their group. Group because Ace and Deuce was there too for whatever reason that is.
Grim was supposed to lead but he didn't like the responsiblity so he gave it to Yuu though Yuu did nothing as well since Cater took over.
Yuu was in the group but at the same time Yuu was not. He was just there, not actively trying to be part of a conversation. In fact, Grim thought that his henchman prefered to be that way where nobody seen him.
This proved his point when the others put their attention on Yuu again and Yuu flinched in return.
-
Everyone knows Yuu doesn't react well with Savanaclaw students after what happened last time.
Yuu tried so hard to blend with the background but Savanaclaw is full of beastman, it's not that hard to single Yuu out.
Grim admitted that his henchman is weak but he was also unexpectedly tough. His henchman is all bruised and battered and he still managed to walk out of it alive. Grim was not worried at all. As a matter of fact, Grim is really upset and frustrated that Yuu still won't stand up for himself.
Grim and the others stood up for Yuu the moment Yuu got mocked openly.
-
Grim thought that he can't let this certain memory wipe away from his head. It had burned into his mind so deeply that he will probably remembered it forever.
They were playing spelldrive and Leona, the one they met in the botanical garden somewhere in the past before Riddle overblot, demanded that Yuu played along with them too.
Yuu agreed as expected and the moment the game started, they ganged up on Yuu, the magicless student. Yuu had to dodge or catch the metallic disk moving in high speed with bare hand.
His palm were red and raw. The fingers are crooked and trembled unwillingly. They began to swell and soon, they won't be able to move their hand lot.
And when Yuu failed to catch, the disk will bash onto his body, knocking air out of their lungs while the Savanaclaw students laughed. Ace and Deuce were full of rage as they tried whatever they can to help Yuu. Cater's smile dropped for the first time at the kneeling Yuu who looked at his swollen hands and the blood dripping from his nose.
His henchman's eyes are glassy but Yuu does not cry.
-
That night however, Grim smelt a stronge scent of salt and the faint sound of tears dropping unto the wooden floor.
A quiet stuttered breath filled in the room that gradually became even and inaudible to the ears.
The tears still kept going.
-
Leona had overblotted. The sand is everywhere. It's on his fur and inside his mouth. His eyes are dry and he is so unbearably thirsty.
Leona's poisonous green eyes is fixed on Yuu once he lose interest with Ruggie, the bastard that stole his sandwhich. Ruggie dropped on the ground with cracks visible on his skin, deprived of moisture. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of the water.
He looked halfway to death and that's what about to happen to Yuu when he get close to him. Yuu who stood still like a fool and face stricken with fear as the hand that possessed unique magic that can turned to dust once in contact, reached out towards him.
A strange thought had passed Grim at that time. His henchman looked like he was prepared. Like he expected it and his choice was to stand still and bear it.
The magic spell the others casted quickly reached Yuu just in time and stopped Leona from his track.
-
The monster died after a while of struggling and Grim gobbled up the black magestone before turning his attention to Yuu.
Yuu's heads bowed down with his battered fingers grabbing the hems of his tattered uniform as Ace's loud voice scolded him again. Deuce and Riddle sported an upset look much like Ace, probably unhappy with what Yuu had shown them before.
"You have a death wish or something!?" Yelled Ace and he shook Yuu like Yuu was an unruly child.
"I'm sorry, I won't do it again I swear. Please forgive me…" Replied Yuu frantically, eyes dilated with fear and borderline crying.
Grim thought that Yuu's behavior is too much. The apologizing–beggings are just exagerating. The three's expression changed to unsettle and a mix of something else in a matter of second so they must have agreed with his thought.
-
Grim forgot how it happened but they were playing spelldrive again since that is what the headmaster promised him and Yuu got knocked out cold from the disk bashing on his head.
He was a bit annoyed that the fun had to put to a stop just because of Yuu though the feelings evaporated because Yuu who was tough enough that they can still walk with a limp and bruises won't show any signs of waking up.
There was chaos as their friends and the ghosts hovered over Yuu's tiny unconcious form, blood streaming down from the head continuously.
Someone carried Yuu. Grim can't remember if it's Ace or if it's Deuce, but all that mattered is that he looked horrified when he carried Yuu.
"Why is he so… thin?" The mumble carried unto the air to his flaming ears.
-
Yuu was still unconcious when Leona joined the infirmary, taking one of the bed to rest in with a grumble underneath his breath. There was also Ruggie and Jack who is surprisingly nice despite his hard exteriors.
And then there's Leona's nephew by the name of Cheka, crashing into the infirmary which only lasted for a few minutes. All of them joked around but their friends doesn't trust those certain Savanaclaw students.
It's why they keep checking up on Yuu as many times as they could. They did not visit at night but Grim was here so there's nothing to be worry about.
Yuu still hasn't wake up yet so Grim took the opportunity to climb on the bed and sleep near the end of the bed.
He used to smell tears every night when he slept, but now, for the first time, the scent is gone, replaced by the scent of disinfectant and faint scent of blood.
It was kinda sad that Yuu have to be like this to stop the tears from flowing.
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blingblong55 · 9 months
Text
To live without- 141+Alejandro
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Based on a request:
Hii can I make a request for some angst?? Maybe the reader having an argument with the TF 141 + Alejandro, inside the car or anywhere resulting to a break up?? Cause I'm a sucker for angst, thankss 🫶
F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, break-ups, cheating (not all)
A/N: This will be in 5 parts
Part 1 (John Price), Part 2, (Soap), Part 3 (Gaz), Part 5 (Ghost)
It has been a stressful few months for him, between his job, you, his own safety and yours, let alone the current argument over her. It's why you and he are now in the car, having this argument.
Alejandro:
A mission ruined what used to be something so special and unique. All because of a man who has too much pride to admit he is jealous that his friends and coworkers find you lovely and fun to hang out with. Currently, he is stuck having thoughts about some woman in his team, she's new and was sent from Laswell, so he knows she is just as good for his team.
The downfall of your marriage started way before her though, she was just the last nail in the coffin. He had been sneaking around for months and at first, it was because of the anniversary gift he had made for you. Now, he was sneaking around like some teenager. For weeks on end, he would have late-night gym sessions, early-morning meetings and excuses to extend his stay on base.
Tonight after a much-needed out in the town with him, he accidently slipped her name out. "Natalia, me puedes pasar mi teléfono por favor?" the second you both came to the realisation, he started to make excuses. You never said a word and that's when his insults came in, he bashed and cursed you out. Telling you how horrible of a wife you are, criticising your body, your way of speaking, cooking and even the once healthy sex life you both shared.
"Enough, Alejandro Vargas!"
That's when he knew you were absolutely upset and engraved by him. You only called him by his full name in moments like this. You looked at him as he kept driving.
"You keep fucking saying shit about me, but where the fuck are your own truths!" All he did was stay silent because now he has made the bomb tick.
"Amor-" he tried to calm you down. "Do not fucking call me that! You have lost that fucking right and you have lost me with it because having me, being married to me and even being in my fucking presence is a privilege!"
He tried to hold your hand and you pushed him away. "I know you are cheating on me, I am not as stupid as you think I am. Best believe if there is a stupid one in this marriage is you." Your words are like a dagger.
"Let me explain-"
"I am not listening to you give me some bullshit explanation, Alejandro. I am done with you and this bullshit thing we call a marriage." You gripped on your purse, knowing well you had to finally let it out.
"Please, amor-"
"I want a divorce." You don't look at him, not daring to even make eye contact after asking such a thing.
At that moment, he slowly pulled over and stayed silent, tears forming in his eyes as he looked at the dashboard. You are both silent. The end of a marriage and the beginning, for him at least, of the what-ifs. All you did to stay and all he did to keep you away. At this moment, for you, you thought of your children, and how hard this would be on them but it's better this way.
To live without
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the-dawn-star · 4 months
Note
Hi, can you please write an oneshot where the human reader tried to break up with yandere Elijah Mikaelson after discovering he is a vampire that feeds on and kills people, and it violates her moral code? What happened next is entirely up to you, thanks a lot :)
A/N: Hey! Firstly, I'm not sure how happy I am with this but I hope you like it. I kind of changed the idea because writing is hard (XD) but I hope you don't mind.
-S
+500ish words.
TW/CW: Some random person being dead, talk of blood, murder and the normal vampire stuff. Yandere stuff like obsessiveness and delusion.
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This wasn’t supposed to go this way. Everything has been going so great in your relationship. And now everything has been ruined... 
It was after a marvelous evening with Elijah. You had eaten well and drank a bit of fantastic wine. You had walked home hand in hand. You had thought that everyone would be sleeping at that time but instead you found Kol and Klaus in the living room talking about something you didn’t pay attention to. And on the floor was a clearly dead body with blood covering his neck.  
After that you weren’t sure what had happened. Kol and Klaus were clearly too drunk to explain themselves, so the explanation became Elijah’s responsibility. Words about vampires, of them being immortal, of death and blood.  
You wanted to throw up. Elijah had been so kind and gentle, so kind in fact that you had fallen in love with him. But this changed it. When you looked at your perfect boyfriend now you just saw all the people he had killed, the innocent people, the blood on his hands.  
You had wanted to leave. After Elijah explained what you had seen you were ready to run away from the house and never look back. But you still cared for the man in front of you and to your surprise Elijah didn’t let you leave. Saying it was for your safety, to make sure you wouldn’t do anything stupid. So that’s why you were laying on your bed that you normally shared with Elijah. But for now, you were alone and terrified of your boyfriend.  
~~~ 
You didn’t assume that you would wake up anymore. If he had killed other people, what would make it that Elijah wouldn’t be killing you too. But you did wake up..., Elijah’s hand gently on your cheek. You wanted to run away, to fight back his kindness.  
“How did you sleep?”  
“I’m fine...,” Your words were barely a whisper and very much a lie. You felt horrible. 
“I didn’t mean to tell you this way..., I was scared of you knowing..., knowing who I really am. You must understand that.”  
You did. You knew very well the feeling of being scared of showing the real you to the people around you. But in your case, you weren’t scared to show people that you were an ancient vampire who needs blood to survive.  
“And I’m sure you will understand it even better once you are turned.”  
Your eyes widened with Elijah’s words, and you ripped yourself off of his touch.  
Did you understand something wrong? What was he talking about?  
“I know it is scary, but I promise I will be there with you at every step of the process. And maybe one day you see that I’m doing this for you..., for us.”  
Elijah’s smile was gentle just like the tone he spoke the words that you did not understand. Where had you gotten this so wrong?  
“What are you saying?” You asked.  
“I have loved you ever since I laid my eyes to you. You are meant to be mine..., but we cannot be together fully as long as you are a human...”  
You didn’t know how to respond.  
“I’m doing this for you..., for us.” 
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suzukiblu · 5 months
Text
Heyyyyy, who wants the expanded excerpt of that one WIP of mine with transfemme!Kon, two glorious and terrible Amazons, and familial soulmates that's behind this here read-more?? (( tw: internalized misgendering, unintentional misgendering ))
Kon just saved Lex Luthor's life, so that's kind of weird and unfortunate. Like, he's perfectly aware that Kal would've wanted him to do that and would've done it himself if he hadn't been too busy bashing on the robot minions of the latest morally dubious AI to need dropkicked out of Metropolis, but also now the whole stupid world is gonna know he's the kind of dumbass who wastes time saving Lex Luthor. 
Specifically, wastes time saving Lex Luthor in the middle of a situation that has at least an eighty-five percent chance of being Lex Luthor's own goddamn fault, just to really rub it in.  
Look, somebody had to have programmed that morally dubious AI. 
Kon can't even enjoy the fact that Luthor's currently knocked out on the ground and both of the dude's super-hot and allegedly Amazonian bodyguards are on top of him. And considering that the one's all buttoned up in a sexy chauffeur uniform with semi-sheer stockings and the other's wearing a black minidress and strappy gold stilettos under a trenchcoat, and that they're both at least six feet tall and built like, again, actual Amazons, that is a lot to not be enjoying. 
. . . although actually, he can't help but notice, they're weirdly not his type despite the fact that they're both absolutely gorgeous and also the fact that he pretty much just described the stars of at least the last three pornos he watched. 
Very weird, Kon thinks, then attempts to get out from underneath said porn star bodyguards. The chauffeur-looking one–Mercy, he thinks her name is–cuffs him upside the head, then pulls out a gun that he cannot even imagine where she was hiding and takes aim at the nearest robot. 
"Quit wriggling, brat, you'll throw off my aim," she orders, and then starts firing. 
"Aren't you supposed to be a fucking Amazon?" Kon demands incredulously. Since when the fuck do Amazons use guns? Since when is that a thing? 
"I am also not too stupid to see the benefits of high-velocity rounds," Mercy replies dryly without missing a shot. Every robot she hits immediately explodes. There is literally no reason a normal handgun should be causing that reaction, so Kon's just gonna assume that's not actually a normal handgun. 
"Always with the high-velocity rounds," the other bodyguard–Hope, Kon's pretty sure?–snorts as she strips off her trenchcoat and reveals a truly improbable amount of absolutely flawless muscle packed into that skintight minidress that Kon, again, finds bizarrely just . . . not hot, somehow? And neither is Mercy's narrow-eyed look of concentration or the fact that they're both still on top of him. 
Maybe he's coming down with something. 
Admittedly, he's pretty sure they're only on top of him to keep him pinned down to be a useful meat-shield for their currently unconscious boss's much less invulnerable body, but Kon has found people who were repeatedly bashing him in the face with an I-beam or just straight-up about to murder him hot, so . . . yeah, definitely coming down with something. There's really no other explanation. 
"Hmmm," Mercy says, eyeing the swarming robots that are very aggressively beelining for their position. Like, these robots are way too interested in their position for this whole stupid situation to not in some way be Luthor's fault, in Kon's opinion. "We need to clear some space." 
"Then you should've packed a bigger gun," Hope says dubiously, dropping her trenchcoat on Kon's head. 
"Fuck's sake," Kon mutters, then flattens his hands against the pavement, grabs every robot he can reach at once with his TTK, and rips them all to pieces in one burst. 
It's not easy, but he at least nails a pretty respectable amount of them, so he's got that much. And also, like, about a hundred-yard radius without anything that's trying to murder them in it. So that's nice. 
". . . huh," Hope says, tilting her head. 
"You're welcome," Kon snipes. "Can I get up now?" 
"No," Hope says as a fresh wave of robots rushes them. "Do it again." 
"Whatever," Kon mutters, but he does. He's got better shit to do right now than argue with alleged Amazons of unexplained origins. Taking out as many damn robots as possible, specifically. 
"That's convenient," Hope observes, inexplicably dropping a hand onto the back of Kon's neck and squeezing . . . approvingly, actually? "Good job, kid." 
And that, bafflingly, still doesn't do anything to his dick. 
Okay, so he's probably actively dying of radiation poisoning from, like, some kind of new stealth kryptonite that Luthor has in his pocket or whatever. Luthor would absolutely be the asshole to have stealth kryptonite in his pocket right now, ungrateful prick that he is. 
Kon really doesn't have time to be worrying about that right now, though, so he just grabs another group of robots with his TTK and does what comes naturally as Mercy keeps firing at the ones in the air overhead and Hope keeps her hand on the back of his neck. It . . . still isn't doing anything to him? 
Except it sort of is, just . . . not in a way that makes sense. 
Kon really doesn't have time for this. 
Mercy reloads her handgun. Hope squeezes the back of Kon's neck again. Rubs the pad of her thumb across his pulse, the gesture more absentminded than anything else. 
Kon feels weird. 
Then he rips apart every single fucking robot left on the ground. 
Which is . . . a lot of robots. 
Like. Way, way more robots than he actually should've been able to get a grip on. Or even reach. 
"Uh," Kon says, blinking stupidly. 
"Damn convenient," Hope says, then gives his neck a neat little pat of appreciation before dropping her hand away. Kon does not examine the part of himself that misses it, mostly because said part has literally nothing to do with his libido and he just can't make that fact make sense. "Mr. Luthor? You with us?" 
"Not at the moment, no," Luthor mutters from the pavement, pushing himself up carefully and dusting his suit off with a mildly annoyed expression, like they're not currently in the middle of a half-destroyed city block while innumerable robot minions and Kal and Kara are all throwing down in the sky overhead. "Hn. Is there a reason the two of you are perched on one of Superman's pet teenagers? The more annoying one, even?" 
"Convenient bullet-catcher," Mercy replies dismissively, shooting down a couple more of the aerial robots. 
"Also surprisingly obedient," Hope muses. 
"Asshole, I literally just saved your life and fucked up half an army of shitty robots to keep it saved, and as for you two, I did your fucking jobs for you, and all three of you are all gonna be shitheads to me about it?" Kon demands in exasperation. "Seriously?" 
"Seems like a reasonable source of entertainment for the afternoon," Luthor says, idly watching Mercy shoot down a few more of the airborne robots. "Given that Superman's being inconsiderately dull and not getting himself punched nearly hard enough." 
"Let me the fuck up already," Kon says flatly. 
"Oh, that hit was a slight improvement," Luthor says musingly as he gets to his own feet and finishes dusting himself off, clearly far more interested in watching Kal get knocked around by the aerial robots than anything else. Kon flips him off on principle. Mercy pistol-whips him for it. It doesn't really hurt, which bemuses him enough to lay off the rude hand gestures. She's an Amazon, probably. Almost definitely. Either way, she definitely could've made that actually hurt. 
So that's weird. 
Actually a lot of weird has been happening in this whole stupid interaction, really, which is what Kon gets for saving fucking Lex Luthor's life. 
Something explodes really loudly in the distance, which is probably the command center that Steel was supposed to be dealing with because all the remaining robots jerk violently and then drop out of the sky like rocks all at once and crash into the ground. Which–thank fuck. 
"Hm," Mercy says, holstering her gun as she glances around the smashed-up street and finally gets off Kon. "We might actually make your three o'clock, Mr. Luthor." 
"Unfortunate, given that I'm fairly certain my three o'clock is good ol' Brucie Wayne," Luthor says dryly. Hope gets up too and, absolutely inexplicably, offers Kon a hand up. He's so fucking bemused that he actually takes it, and she pulls him to his feet. "That man is absolutely unbearable." 
"Mmm, I don't know, Hope and I usually find Mr. Wayne good for a bit of afternoon delight," Mercy drawls, sounding amused. 
"Ew," Kon mutters reflexively as he lets go of Hope's hand and makes a face. Then he wonders what the fuck kind of kryptonite that stealth kryptonite is, because picturing two dangerous and gorgeous Amazons making a sandwich out of a slutty Gothamite playboy shouldn't be making him say "ew". Like, that is very literally the last thing that should ever be making him say "ew". Ever. 
Seriously, what the fuck. 
Luthor looks back over at them. 
And then he frowns. 
"Hope," he says. "Mercy." 
"Yes, sir?" Hope asks. 
"What the hell are those?" Luthor says. 
Hope and Mercy frown too. Then they look at each other. Look each other over. And . . . pause. 
"Oh," Hope says. 
"What the fuck," Mercy says. 
Kon has no idea what they're all frowning about, but whatever. An annoyed supervillain and his annoyed bodyguards are not his also-annoyed problem, at least not as long as they're not actively trying to murder Kal or blow up Metropolis or whatever. He's just gonna go make sure everybody he actually gives a shit about is okay, and then get back to–
Hope and Mercy's frowns deepen, and then they both flick their eyes towards him. 
"Bullshit," Mercy says, her eyes narrowing. 
"What, do you think it was one of the drones?" Hope asks dubiously, raising an eyebrow. 
"He's a damn man," Mercy says accusingly. "Worse, a damn boy!" 
"Excuse you?" Kon says, bristling reflexively. He's technically eighteen, okay? Or at least the rough equivalent of eighteen, whatever. 
"I will say, not quite what I pictured for either of your types," Luthor says, looking Kon over with an unimpressed expression. 
Oh, gross. 
"Annnnnd I'm out," Kon says firmly as he lifts off the ground, because Lex Luthor just checked him out and he needs to go gag now. And like, scrub the entire memory from his brain. 
Hope grabs his shoulder and shoves him back down onto his feet. 
"You're our soulmate, kid," she says matter-of-factly. Kon . . . blinks. 
"The fuck?" he says, and Hope points down at herself. He looks. There's a soulmark wrapped halfway around her right thigh, which is . . . weird, actually, because he doesn't remember her having a soulmark there earlier, especially not such a big and flashy one, and . . . 
What the fuck, Kon thinks. He looks over at Mercy and sees the exact same soulmark showing through her stockings in the exact same place on her own thigh. He doesn't remember seeing it there before either. 
It's . . . well, it's a soulmark, he guesses. It's gold–like, several different shades of gold, but all of them metallic and gleaming. He can see the shine of the mark even through Mercy's stockings. It looks like a mosaic of a stylized sun, all intricate rays and bright circles and interlocking shapes, and it takes up a hell of a lot of real estate, going all the way from just above their knees to who knows how high up under their skirts. It's . . . well, it's pretty. 
Actually, it's beautiful, and Kon kind of wants to touch it. To touch both of them, more specifically, ideally at the same time. 
And still not in the pervy way. 
So that's a bad sign, definitely. 
"Take your pants off," Mercy orders impatiently. 
"How about 'hell no'?" Kon says, because yeah he has literally no sense of shame or self-consciousness but Luthor was just eyeballing him like a weirdo and he very much does still want to go make sure nobody he gives a shit about got fucked up by a morally dubious robot or anything. And like–okay, fine, apparently he has soulmates and apparently those soulmates are both drop-dead gorgeous Amazons, but like . . . he doesn't actually give a fuck right now, and also they both work for Lex Luthor, so that kinda doesn't bode well for any kind of long-term relationship or whatever anyway? Like, this is very much about to be another Knockout scenario. Knockout in stereo, even. 
Ugh.
"I said take your pants off," Mercy repeats in annoyance. 
"Again, hell no," Kon tells her. 
Mercy grabs for his belts. Kon dodges her. 
"Hey!" he says. Mercy glowers at him. Hope folds her arms. 
"It's obviously him, Mercy," she says with a sigh. "We haven't touched anyone else but each other and Lex in at least an hour, and any of us would've triggered a mark long before now." 
"He's a child," Mercy bites off. 
"I'm eighteen, kind of!" Kon protests indignantly. If he had to forcibly lose sixteen-odd years of his natural lifespan, at least people could fucking acknowledge him as a fucking adult. Like, is that too much to ask?
"You're two," Luthor says dryly. "'Kind of'." 
"Oh, fuck you," Kon snaps, scowling at him and also not sure how he feels about the fact that the fucking weirdo actually knows how old he is. Like, why the fuck does he know that? 
"A literal child," Mercy says witheringly. "A literal child is our literal soulmate. In a V-shaped triad, of all things!" 
Honestly, if somebody'd told Kon half an hour ago that he had two soulmates and said soulmates were a pair of smoking hot older women dressed like professional escorts who could both kick his ass due to being unconfirmed Amazons, and he was the focal point of their V-shaped triad? He would have very literally needed to go have a lie-down until he recovered enough to get some bloodflow back to his brain. And it would've had to be a very, very long lie-down. 
Right now, though, it's just like . . . a thing, he guesses. A very weird thing that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever, as far as he's concerned. 
"Well, he'll mature," Hope says resignedly. "Theoretically." 
"Oh, that's a turn-on," Mercy snorts. 
"Look, whatever, I'm not into you two either but I'm not being a prick about it, am I?" Kon says in exasperation, folding his arms. 
The other three all pause. Then they all turn their heads to look at him. 
"You're not?" Luthor says, sounding mystified. "What, neither of them?" 
"Not that it's any of your damn business, but no," Kon says, wondering what his life has come to that he's actually answering the asshole supervillain right now. 
". . . you know, you could just come out to Superman, it's not actually necessary to so aggressively pretend to be straight," Luthor says dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. Kon, again, wonders how and why this weirdo knows anything about him, much less enough to have an opinion about his sexual orientation and the way he expresses it. "I mean, you'll have to put up with him 'validating your identity' every five minutes, I'm sure, but he isn't going to disown you or whatever nonsense you're expecting." 
"I'm bi, asshole, and I am out to Superman," Kon says in exasperation. Who, admittedly, did kind of spend a couple months validating his identity every five minutes after he came out to him, but that's neither here nor there. "It's possible to just not be into someone." 
"But you're not into either of them," Luthor says, eyes narrowing in consideration. "And they're your soulmates." 
". . . oh gods," Mercy says in horrified realization, putting her hands over her face and staring at Kon through her splayed fingers. "Hope. Hope, are we fucking parents?!" 
". . . huh," Hope says, tilting her head. 
Kon blinks at both of them. Then stares at both of them. 
"Are you high?" he says incredulously. "There is literally no damn way!" 
"Really? Because it'd be one thing if you weren't sexually attractive to either of them yet," Luthor says, still eyeing him assessingly. "You're barely past jailbait, physiologically speaking, and that's frankly being generous. But neither of them is sexually attractive to you?" 
"It's possible to just not be into someone!" Kon protests again. "That doesn't mean they're my moms, for fuck's sake! It could just be, I don't know, platonic or something! Or a sibling bond!" 
Not that those options aren't just as weird and doomed as a romantic bond would be, obviously, but at least they'd make more sense than a parental one would. 
"Amazons only get sister bonds, brat," Mercy says dubiously, which Kon guesses makes sense but also makes him feel a little–never mind. Never mind how it makes him feel. 
He doesn't like how it makes him feel, though. For reasons that he's just . . . not ever gonna examine. 
Ever. 
"Yeah, well, last I heard nobody ever proved you two were real Amazons anyway," he snaps back defensively, clenching his fists at his sides. 
"It's adorable that you think we care what anyone else thinks," Mercy snorts, rolling her eyes. 
Kon very literally cannot imagine just not caring what anyone else thinks to that degree. Like–not ever. 
Must be nice, though.
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